Sodales
by El Conservatore
Summary: With the Invasion of Samsara in only its opening stages, Emma Sinclair has much to look forward to. In times like these, it's often advised to keep your friends close. Sometimes though, that can be hard to do. [Sequel to "Solemnis". Spinoff of "To the Stars".]
1. A Second Wind

It is the stars,

The stars above us, govern our conditions.

(_King Lear, 4.3.37_), Kent

* * *

"You're very welcome."

The last of the motes of light faded. Madoka sighed and rubbed her eyes. A draining, swirling exhaustion pulled at her. When Madoka opened her eyes again, she was leaning on her elbows in the cafe near her old middle school.

"You alright there?" asked Sayaka. Madoka looked up. Sayaka was giving her a worried look.

"I'm fine, Sayaka-chan," said Madoka, sitting up and stretching. Her bones popped. "Mmm. Just a little tired. We've been working hard."

"You're doing all the heavy lifting," said Sayaka. "Me and the others are just showing up to say things. It's not like we actually doing anything when you ask us to come with."

"Saying things is important, Sayaka-chan," said Madoka. She picked up her tea cup with a gloved hand and sipped at the bracing beverage. "The right words can topple empires, you know."

Sayaka rolled her eyes. "Sure, Mado-okaa-san, whatever you say."

Madoka pouted as their food arrived, sliding onto the table from the top of an Anthony's head. "I'm not that old, Sayaka-chan!"

"Yes, you are," said Sayaka bluntly. "I watched you rescue friggen Joan of Arc, Madoka!"

"Oh hush," said Madoka, prodding her friend with a foot. "Time is like origami, don't you remember?"

"And besides, you're avoiding the question," continued Sayaka, ignoring the sandwich and soda that had been placed in front of her. "Are you sure you're okay? Ripping open a hole in time and space can't be good for you."

"I'm fine, Sayaka-chan, really," said Madoka. She took another bite of cake. "Hmm, not as good as Mami-san's…."

"But it's only been, like, five girls," said Sayaka anxiously. "Maybe you should cut down on the trips? You didn't really need to go see Emma, she's not that important in the—."

The room physically dropped in temperature as Madoka looked up and dropped ice into Sayaka's very soul. "Every girl is important, Sayaka."

Sayaka quailed.

"S-sorry, Madoka," said Sayaka. "I'm… I'm just worried. You're not completely omnipotent, and I… I guess I still remember the meek little Madoka-chan from before."

Madoka sighed. She reached across the table and flicked Sayaka on the nose.

"Ow!"

"It's fine, Sayaka-chan," said Madoka. She gave Sayaka a reassuring smile. "Being a little tired isn't going to hurt me now, and this is important."

"But you're a goddess now!" said Sayaka. "I mean, you getting tired, period, is a problem!"

"It's not as big a problem as making sure this battle goes well," said Madoka firmly. "Samsara is important to humanity. Economically, politically, socially… it cannot be allowed to burn."

Sayaka pressed her lips together unhappily, then pushed her sandwich across to Madoka. "Here, I'm not hungry anyway."

"Eh? But—."

"I just need some sugar to keep going," said Sayaka, sucking down her soda with the provided straw. "Hurry up, we've got more to do, like you said."

Madoka blinked at Sayaka for a moment, before nodding. She quickly devoured the sandwich and the cake.

"Let's get going then, Sayaka-chan," said Madoka. She stood and brushed the crumbs off her gown. "Are you ready?"

"Always, Madoka-chan," said Sayaka. She adjusted her cape and stood at Madoka's side. "Who are we visiting now?"

"Her name is…"

A flash of pink, and the two were gone.

* * *

Emma blinked her eyes open.

She was lying on her side, curled gently around her gem. The cold of the floor, seeping through her costume, was the only discomfort she felt. She felt well rested, alert, ready to fight. Two days of combat had been wiped away, leaving her at the peak of fitness. Emma went to push herself up and—

—collapsed in agony as her dying gem ripped open her body. It was like being burned and flayed alive while animals gnawed at your limbs. A ragged scream tore out of Emma's throat as she struggled to retain consciousness. What remained of her soul's light glimmered faintly at the base of her gem, barely holding itself together as the filigree slowly rusted.

Emma gasped, then grit her teeth. Have to keep it together. Have to- have to purify. Three, two, and—

—There was an almost physical impact as she forced her remaining magic into herself, locking her limbs and forcing her backpack to extrude her remaining grief cubes. Emma burned through her last reserves dumping her gem into the pile of cubes. For a second, nothing happened. The pain was getting worse, she was supposed to be purifying, why wasn't she purifying Goddess no not now—

—a surge of relief, like a pitcher of water being poured down her body. An almost literal sizzling as the pain ebbed, washed away. It left her weak and exhausted, collapsed onto her side as she struggled to take in air. Her gem had consumed all of her remaining grief cubes.

But, she was alive.

With a groan, Emma pushed herself upright and slump against the wall. She glanced at Ingrid's body.

"I guess that could have gone better," she said.

Emma sat there recovering her strength. The exhaustion she felt slowly ebbed as her magic did its work. It wasn't much. Deep seated fatigue like this wasn't something you could deal with that easily. Some food would help, but this was the entirely wrong place to break out a food pack.

Instead, Emma dragged herself to her feet and cleaned. The electrical equipment was heavy, but Emma had enough strength to deal with it. Within the hour, the wreckage had been shoved to the side. A battery pack and VR cable were scrounged from the destruction. Emma placed the defenders' remains in neat rows across the back.

A speech would have been good. Emma was too tired to think of anything appropriate.

Emma bowed, then made her way back outside. It was still raining. With a sigh, she pushed the piled squid dead over with a splash of mud.

There was something disquieting about the silence that echoed afterwards. A moment after, Emma realized that it was because she could no longer hear detonations in the background. The march up had been interspersed with the sound of distant combat. Now though, she couldn't hear a thing.

Emma wasn't sure what that meant. On the one hand, it could mean that the defenders had been overwhelmed, pushed into the tunnels of Helsinberg's redoubt and besieged. On the other, it could merely be a lull in the fighting. A quick breath, before both combatants plunged back into the fray.

She grimaced. Best play it safe then. Emma climbed up the hillside as stealthily as she could. The ground was slippery, saturated with water and having little to hold it together. Pebbles and gravel slid beneath Emma's feet. Twice, she had to catch herself from falling completely into a puddle. Once she failed.

Goddess, she desperately need a rest. That would never have happened if she had been at peak fitness. As she neared the top of the hill, Emma took a deep breath and moved to her hands and knees. Slowly, she peered out from behind a boulder to survey the land around her.

The valley had burned. Bits still smoldered as the cool rain tried and failed to quench the fiery hunger of plasma and laser blast. It was a field of ruin, destroyed by forces unmatched by man alone, but contested with unyielding anger and pride. The dead littered the valley, black dots upon blacker dust. The river swelled to match the fury of the men and women who had defended it to their last breath. Little remained of what had once been a dense network of emplacements and weaponry.

Emma sighed. For all her despair and anguish, it seemed the reality of the situation was that she would have been of little use on the field this battle. Her powers were meager, in comparison to the almighty force wielded by a Reaper's laser cannon. Even with her company behind her, the result would probably have only been tragedy. It had been wrong of her to despair.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Dammit. She was so stupid.

With another deep sigh, Emma began to search for something to home in on as her next destination. The fields of the valley were stripped of their fortifications, most of them shattered and burnt. The suburbs surrounding Helsinberg been blasted and destroyed as well. Twisted remnants of apartments and houses were all that remained of a once active, if not necessarily vibrant, urban center.

What wasn't utterly ruined had been occupied, the oblong forms of cephalopod drones drifting about and small figures that could only be troopers moving about on patrol. The density of forces increased with proximity to Helsinberg. It was difficult to tell, from this distance, but the constant haze hovering over the area had to be cephalopod drones.

Still, the human line was standing firm. Just within the bounds of downtown Helsinberg, several towers had been toppled to interfere with cephalopod plans. They weren't much, but booby trapping and firing angles made them a challenge that had to be planned for. On top of that, many towers still stood, making them good, if obvious, positions for the many magical sniper teams.

Oddly enough, the Reapers in the area weren't firing. A large amount of wreckage, distantly visible to the east, implied some sort of impact from orbit. Emma had no idea how the battle in space was going, but it appeared that the Home Fleet was making some sort of progress. If that held—

Emma's train of thought was cut off as she caught a bright flash of light about twenty kilometers away, near a building that might have been taken over as a supply depot. Cascading explosions followed, then more bright flashes in an array of colors.

More survivors? No, that didn't make any sense. The tightly controlled sequence of flashes was too organized. MagOps then. Emma wasn't familiar with the redoubt tunnels underneath Helsinberg. Maybe there was a way to get to the underground fortress from the suburbs. But, for all she knew, the team had a teleporter with long range capability.

Either way though, that was her ticket out of here. Emma had to get into the outskirts. If there was one MagOps team causing havoc and, apparently, meeting success, then there had to be more either already in place or about to enter the area. As long as Emma could get into telepathy range, she could get rescued.

First though, the downhill slope.

* * *

Freshly soaked in more mud from the downhill trek, Emma moved more quickly. Eyeing her gem warily, Emma dropped out of her costume and walked in the street clothes she had kept from Mitakihara. It was a little more slippery and the chill soaked in deeper, but it used up no magic and wasn't that much worse.

Emma didn't try very hard to scavenge this time. She wanted to get back as quickly as possible, after all. Batteries and ammo packs, however, she saved whenever she could find them. ID Chips she stored in her backpack as best she could. Any potentially useful data was yanked as well, since she now had the VR cable to act as data I/O.

If it weren't for the fact that being numb to death was an alarming state to be in, Emma would have congratulated herself for not letting it get to her. She should probably talk to a counselor about that later. To be fair, though, Emma didn't try very hard to feel sad. Her thoughts were instead focused on the… well Emma wasn't sure what it was that she'd seen, just before waking up.

Technically speaking, it was more of a fever-death-dream than an honest-to-goodness vision. Wasn't it expected for visions to be prophetic in some way? If so, she was completely screwed. Like all dreams, she had started forgetting it the moment she'd woken up. If there was something she was supposed to remember to keep from dying, then it'd been lost by now.

Thinking about it though, she wasn't even sure that it had been any sort of vision at all. She still believed what she had concluded after the IFV had been hit: you didn't survive that sort of thing without outside help. But what you'd been thinking before you fell asleep had strong influences on what you dreamed abut. There was no guaranteeing she hadn't just imagined everything, and since she couldn't remember much, there was no way to tell.

Whatever it was, it had definitely involved swimming. That, and being burned alive while underwater, ominously. There had been music, the sound of violins, and the feeling that everything would be okay, eventually. But aside from that…

…Well, there was one thing. She remembered… she remembered lying on a bed, and someone pulling the sheets over her, before kissing her goodnight. It was like… it had been like she was a little kid again, being tucked in by her parents at the end of a long day.

Part of her suddenly wanted to be done with it all. Not die, no, that was too much, but just to go away into some forgotten corner of space and spend her days napping. Maybe find someone to date, but nothing serious. It seemed like she hadn't felt safe, properly safe, for an entire epoch, and that was something she desperately wanted to feel again.

But if she did die, Emma wasn't sure she wouldn't be… well, "welcoming" was a stretch, but it didn't seem that bad anymore. No one could say for sure what happened after you died, but being rescued by the Goddess was somewhere in that list. As would be, Emma hoped, the chance to take a long nap.

...It seemed childish, but being tucked in by the Goddess would be really nice too.

* * *

Getting to the suburbs ended up taking longer than Emma had liked. Her gem was still weakened from coming so close to death. The crushing exhaustion kept her from maintaining long periods of activity. Eating some food from the food packs she had brought from Team B-4's position gave her more strength, but Emma didn't dare spend more time than was absolutely necessary in the open.

There was no sign of any activity from the MagOps team Emma had seen earlier. The outskirts of the suburbs seemed totally abandoned, devoid of any military presence by any side. Emma treated this with cautious optimism. Hopefully, this meant that the squid had pulled away from the area, not wanting to risk further engagement with the MagOps team.

Emma crouched behind a pile of fallen decorative bricks. They had surrounded a playground once. The swings still creaked in the wind as the rain tap tap tapped along the ground, tinging off the metal and scattering amongst the torn shrubbery. There was no movement.

Cautiously, Emma walked forward. Her footsteps were muffled by magic. Carefully placed as well, lest a misstep herald the collapse of rubble and draw the ire of any nearby drones or patrols. The tumbledown walls and impromptu stairways surrounding her beckoned forth, inviting Emma to explore their depths and find what lay within. It was a tempting offer, to be sure, as no doubt there was plenty of interest to find inside.

But that was gratuitously unwise. Emma had no doubt that every single building was booby trapped. If by the squid, then probably with no small amount of explicitly anti-magical girl hardware. If not, then there would certainly be whatever traps human forces had been able to place. No, the main streets were, ironically, much safer.

Emma stayed low, flitting from bit of rubble to bit of rubble. There were some passive sensors wired into her skull, but their range was limited and they did nothing for static emplacements. Emma needed only to run into a turret and she'd be done for. But, from what she could remember, the last attack had been just a bit further west from where she was. It seemed reasonable to assume that the MagOps team was still in the area.

Still, it was a big assumption to make. MagOps teams tended to be created to fulfill specific missions. It was just as likely that the team had melted away into the shadows and returned to wherever they had came from, waiting for another day and place to strike. There was no guarantee that Emma would find them, and for all she knew, she was walking right into—

—an enemy patrol. Emma sucked in her breath and dived for cover, praying that she hadn't been spotted. After a moment's silence, she peeked around the side.

Shit, they were fanning out. One of them must have caught sight of the tail of her robe. The only path that Emma had was through the building next to her. It hadn't been bombed completely, and still stood several stories tall. Glancing back once more, Emma braced herself, then slid in as noiselessly as she could through a ground-level window.

She landed with a quiet thud. Emma waited breathlessly for a moment. Nothing. Good. She immediately set forth, moving forward at a crouch. She kept one eye on the passive sensor readout and another on the ground. The light was dim inside, but she could just make out the shapes that she needed to avoid.

It was true, what she'd expected. The building was riddled with booby traps, the sort that had little feet and scuttled about to find a suitable position. Just at the first door, Emma had needed to brush aside a handful of caltrops and shimmy herself underneath a hip-height ultraviolet tripwire.

More alarming was the array of proximity mines that she found strung across the obvious routes out. With no way to heal herself and death guaranteed if she was found, Emma had to find alternate paths and shimmy herself through tiny gaps to get through. More than once, she held her breath as the clink of an armored tentacle hitting the ground heralded the presence of a patrolling squid. The traps could sense friendly units and let them pass unharmed.

Briefly, Emma considered following a squid from room to room, until she got a chance to escape. This was quickly dismissed as untenable. She wished for rooftops to run across, something that could be accomplished easily and quietly. Perhaps more open to drone attack, sure, but this was maddening.

Emma quickly found herself lost. A growing sense of being herded plagued her as she scanned each area for potential exits. Holes in walls were too convenient, it seemed, and she was going ever higher in the building. Something was definitely not right.

Emma tried to think back across what she'd done so far. She'd gone in through the one window, but she was sure she hadn't been followed. She'd evaded all the tripwires easily too, and hadn't managed to set off a proximity mine yet. The detonation range on those things was only a few meters, but—

—they should have killed her by now. Damn. She WAS being herded. Emma had never been more than five feet from any one mine, the things must have been linked together and were being moved around by the patrol. Her every movement had been orchestrated to push her into a corner, where it'd be easier to pin her down and blow her to bits with a well placed grenade.

Damn it damn it DAMN it. Emma breathed deep and tried to think through the situation. What to do, what to do…

Well they were just standard troopers, from Emma had seen. No unique insignia anywhere. She should be able to take them with just hand to hand. If she used magic to blast some of the mines away… wait no, the window! If she went out the window, she could aeromaneuver away from the building and back into cover.

Nodding decisively, Emma moved hurriedly to the window and checked it for any traps. There was nothing she could see on the frame. She didn't have a good angle, but it didn't seem like there was anything hanging above or below the window either.

Time to hope for the best then.

Carefully, ever so carefully, Emma pushed open the window. Nothing. Holding her breath, Emma began climbing over the window sill. One booted foot touched the window frame before she was fully out.

There was a massive flash and horrendous explosion. Her vision was completely whited out, her ears were ringing, and something was dripping from her mouth and nose. A second later, she realized it was blood.

Blind and deaf, Emma felt her combat instincts begin to scream at her to move, to get out of there, to escape. The explosion must have alerted the entire patrol to her presence, and the trip mines kept trying to climb onto her. Something metal scraped at her boot—

—and then her vision suddenly snapped back into place. The terrifying sight of dozens of mines scrabbling towards her filled her vision for a moment before Emma felt herself get yanked bodily out the window.

"Don't panic, I've got you," said a voice in her head. Emma looked up to see a skull looking down at her, wearing black lace and ruffles. She felt her mouth open to scream, before it snapped shut and her entire body went limp.

"Fuck, if you're going to do that, I'm just carrying you," said the magical girl. Emma lolled limply, in a semi-panicked state. "Oi, you alive in there?"

"W-wha?"

"I said," repeated the magical girl, slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. "Are you alive in there?"

"I- yes, yes I'm alive," said Emma. "Can you let me down now, please?"

"Not yet," said the girl. "Name's Nodoka. I'm going to keep you like this until we get to somewhere safe, okay? Take a nap or something."

"…I can't close my eyes."

Emma blinked. Then she realized she'd done it on her own. "…Thanks?"

"Don't mention it," said Nodoka. "Hold tight now."

Emma resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. She realized now that they were moving at an extraordinary pace, flicking over the ruins on an apparently completely arbitrary path. The girl must have been wearing some sort of high performance stealth generator, or they'd have been picked up by enemy drones by now.

"Hold on, braking," said Nodoka shortly. Seconds later she came to a hard stop in the courtyard behind a strip mall. Emma felt herself twitch once, before she was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Evidently, she had control of her body back, because she landed on her hands and feet and bounced back up.

"What's your name?" asked Nodoka. She had pushed the skull, evidently a mask, up on her forehead.

Emma took a deep breath and sighed before answering. "My name is Emma Sinclair."

"Burnside-Sinclair, you mean?" asked Nodoka. She turned and waved for Emma to follow.

"No, just Sinclair," said Emma, confused.

"Huh, that's weird," said Nodoka. "Well, we'll see if you're related to Agapita later. Come along, Emma."

"What's going on?" asked Emma, following behind hurriedly. "Thanks for the save, but where are we?"

"We are exactly five kilometers distant from the nearest entrance to the redoubt," said Nodoka. "MagOps Team Four has been tasked with supply line harassment. Apparently, it's also extended to rescuing your sorry newbie ass."

Emma frowned. "I'm not that new."

"Yes you are," said Nodoka. "Compared to us, anyway."

Oh come on! Seriously? Again? "Why?" challenged Emma. "You're part of MagOps, but you can't have more than a few years—."

"Kid, you are drastically underestimating what it takes to get into MagOps," said Nodoka, severely unimpressed. "I turned ninety-seven two weeks ago, brat. Respect your elder."

Emma blanched. "O-oh."

"Yeah. Now shut up and follow me."

Meekly, Emma trailed behind Nodoka as the girl, woman really, led Emma into the strip mall, the down into the basement.

"Right, stay here," ordered Nodoka. "We'll come pick you up in a bit. Don't do anything stupid."

Emma nodded. With a swish of lace, Nodoka turned and left, basement door clicking shut behind her.

…Well damn. Talk about ruined first impressions.

The basement door suddenly opened again.

"Catch."

Emma caught a small bag full of grief cubes.

"Figured you might want some," said Nodoka from the doorway. "Leave at least half for me."

"Right."

The door clicked shut again.

With a sigh, Emma sat down on a crate and settled in to wait.


	2. Much Ado About Everything

The basement Emma was in was best described as "claustrophobic". Yes, its ceiling was actually rather tall and its walls widely spaced, but it was also piled high with crates of product and various bits of unused shelving and office supplies.

Sitting there on the crate, Emma quickly grew bored. She had little to do except introspect or manually process the data she'd collected from the dead. The first would probably end up weakening her soul gem, and the second would probably cause the first from sheer boredom.

Exploring the basement in some attempt at entertainment appeared to be her only option. Some food would be good for her as well. Honestly, ration packs were not great tasting, but at least they were better than, say, that random clump of moss you'd pulled off a rock.

Each ration pack consisted of wrappers within a wrapper. Emma rummaged in her backpack and pulled out a pack labeled "Beef bourguignon". The pack included silverware and an insulated metal tray you could balance on your knees. Each component was labeled and nanite-infused, so that it heated automatically when it came in contact with the tray. You could skim off the nanites after the heating cycle if you wanted, and Emma did since it tended to make the food slightly bitter. She didn't need to though. It was perfectly safe to eat either way.

Emma ate as she made her way through the densely packed basement. Oddly enough, she didn't feel that hungry. Then again, implants.

The basement was actually vaguely interesting, now that she looked at it more carefully. It was a bit surprising for her to see, for example, the vast array of tablets that were available. The devices were going outdated by now on Earth, but here, there were a half-dozen different brands available. The number of different clothing brands was somewhat alarming.

Although then again, she didn't exactly go out shopping much. Maybe this was normal? Emma chewed a piece of meat thoughtfully as she wandered onwards. Hm… Moving to Mitakihara had really turned her into a stereotypical shut in. She didn't have many friends, kept to herself, defended her preferred hobbies vigorously…

Jeez, she sounded like one of those gamers who hacked their implants to do VR dives. When had that happened? She remembered having friends outside of football back in London. Surely she hadn't always been like this.

Emma huffed. No, she was pretty sure it was a recent thing. If only she hadn't moved. It'd have been nice if she'd at least had some warning. But no, right at the end of the season, when she'd just gotten into her stride as team captain. There had been arrangements to make, team positions to reshuffle, last minute retraining, ugh.

It'd all been completely mad, and it'd only been half of what needed to be done. The remainder, things that had gone way over Emma's head at the time, had been taken care of by Coach Williams. When all was said and done, Emma had managed to get things sorted in time, but really.

Emma scraped up a spoonful of sauce and stirred it into her mashed potatoes. Truth be told, it was probably time to let it go. Dwelling on this was killing her gem. She'd… well, she'd managed to deal with it all. Mitakihara wasn't that bad, not really, and logistics and economics were things she didn't hate with complete unholy passion. Just… just some passion, yeah.

A mental ping pulled her out of this line of thought. Moments later her tactical interface rebooted. Emma grinned. This was a good sign. Her TacComp must have finally self-repaired to a point where it could process basic functions. As she watched, toolbars and message boxes tiled in. They were all familiar, if mostly empty, and a welcome sight after running on only the rudimentary HUD for hours.

"Conducting self diagnostic," said a familiar synthetic voice. "Please wait. Estimating time remaining… fifteen minutes."

Good. She would take some time to fiddle with it later. That reminded her, there was also the implant diagnostic she had been meaning to run. It would be a bit of a pain, but it was probably wise to do it sooner rather than later. Her TacComp might need hours to finish repairs, and she had no idea when the MagOps team would be back.

Emma paused in front of a crate full of teddy bears to finish her meal. She felt mostly full, but might grab another food pack in a bit. The teddy bears brought a nostalgic smile. She and Anna had each been given one way back when, and had dragged them around everywhere. Then she'd gotten into football and used Anna's for over-enthusiastic childish penalty kick practice. That had gone predictably terribly. Anna had cried for days afterwards.

Impulsively, Emma picked up one of the teddy bears, somewhat gangly-limbed with a blue ribbon around its neck, and carried it back to the crate she had been sitting on before. She crumpled the tray into a ball and shoved it into the empty wrapper, then carefully placed the teddy bear into her backpack. She had a sudden desire to have a teddy bear, and nobody would miss the one.

That done, Emma cleared out enough space to sit down against the crate. The diagnostic would probably ruin any spacial awareness she had, and she didn't want to come out of the dive sprawled inelegantly across the crate. Especially if Nodoka or someone else from the MagOps team came to pick her up. She'd embarrassed herself enough already.

Training had made sure to cover how to use the Universal Command Prompter. It was a slow and clunky way of going about implant I/O in an age of artificial telepathy, but it had its uses. Emma plugged the data cable into the back of her neck, then into the transmitter she'd pulled from the IFV back by Cluster 14. She fitted a battery into the transmitter's power supply, then daisy chained a few more together. It was probably not that safe, but it would do.

Now, Emma just had to remember what she was supposed to do. She pulled up the UCP and stared at it blankly.

"Uhhh… oh right, _system update /force_," she thought at the blipping cursor.

Emma's world abruptly cut out, before she began falling endlessly and accelerating. Complete pressing nothingness overwhelmed her. Emma unsuccessfully fought against rising panic, belatedly recalling that this had, in fact, happened in training.

Then an impossibly loud bing as her auditory cortex came back online, followed swiftly by her olfactory system. She could smell beef stew most strongly, followed by… well it was herself, clearly. At some level, everyone knew what they smelled like, of course, but she'd never taken the time to sniff herself before. Who did that?

Then a flash of white text. Emma mentally recoiled as streams and streams of information spiraled across her vision. It was all moving too fast to read, and the sheer glut of data was dizzying. Emma picked out something about mind-to-mind communication and muscular enhancements.

The word "ERROR" kept appearing with alarming frequency. There wasn't nearly enough time to figure out what was error-ing out, but it was enough for Emma to feel nervous about combat. What if something failed half way through? What if her data I/O wasn't functional and she didn't get any updates? Alright, fine, most of what she did was uniquely magical, but it wasn't as if they gave you an exhaustive list of the implants you had. Cascading failure could happen, after all, and—

—the world clicked off as the logos of Chronos Biologics and Hephaestus Nanotechnology blinked across her vision. Another, quieter, bling, and then everything rushed back in.

Emma jerked back to her body with a gasp. Everything burned and sparked, as if she'd been dropped into a vat of liquid nitrogen, left for a few seconds, and then doused with molten iron.

Well, that was probably hyperbole, but calling it a "tingle" was complete understatement.

With a groan, Emma sat up. Her tactical interface rebooted a moment later, almost cheerfully telling her that the reset had restored some other basic functions to her TacComp, including hardware management protocols. Would she like to access these now?

Yes, yes she would. A window blinked open, turning translucent to overlay her field of view. A list rapidly propagated, along with several columns of information.

…Goddess, half her implants were nonfunctional. The readout was also totally unhelpful, merely stating that "the requested implant technology cannot be found". Were they burned out? Was her diagnostic malfunctioning? Did the firmware on the implants get corrupted?

Completely useless.

But, at least, her I/O implants were definitely working, and she had a much more useful TacComp than she'd thought. It was already capable of very, very basic computing. File management, running scripts, et cetera. It'd probably be another day to get even close to full combat capacity, but anything was better than nothing.

More worryingly, her medical implant readiness kept flickering between 30 and 98 percent. A two-percent degradation was easily manageable, but if Emma actually only had access to 30% of her implants' regeneration capabilities, any hit she took would burn through her gem like fire through tissue paper.

Still, things seemed alright at face value. Emma stood, flexed her limbs, and stretched, testing the feel of her body. If everything was, indeed, broken, she at least felt like she could do things as usual.

Well, trusting in her body to be ready was something Emma was used to. There was a special device that suppressed some implant functions, to keep football games even. A lot of the nervousness that went into games came from fear of not being ready for the struggle to come. Emma knew how to deal with that.

A small flicker at the edge of Emma's consciousness made her pause. The sensation was a bit like someone running a handkerchief over your face. You could feel it whenever Rebecca was using her powers and you were within range. Just enough warning to shield yourself during training, if you weren't part of the day's exercise.

But Rebecca was back with the rest of the military, and her range wasn't more than a kilometer. Maybe someone else? One of the MagOps? Tentatively, Emma reached out telepathically.

"Hello?"

"Ah, hello!" said a voice, inflected with a slightly excessive amount of cheer. "There you are! I thought your signal was around here."

"Who are you?" asked Emma. The voice sounded perfectly androgynous to her, but maybe she was just out of it.

"My name is Senbey!" said the voice. "I am an Incubator!"

Emma blinked. They told you in training, if there wasn't a more convenient disposal method, to just drop your grief cubes when you maxed them out. An Incubator would swing by at some point to pick them up, but it wasn't preferred. Grief cubes spawned demons, after all.

"What are you doing here then?" asked Emma. "I thought you'd have picked up all the grief cubes by now."

"As it turns out, we hadn't!" said Senbey. "The pile you left behind in the bunker tipped us off that you were alive, and I've been trying to get a fix on your position ever since!"

Emma winced. Partly because she now realized she'd forgotten to clean up her grief cubes, but more because Senbey's voice had spiked into the higher registers. It was the closest she'd ever felt to "eardrum piercing" in her head, and it was bound to give her a headache.

"Could you uh, tone it down a bit?" she asked.

"Hm? Oh, I am sorry, I must be sounding excited again," said Senbey. Its voice ticked marginally downwards in pitch and volume, to just barely a manageable level. "I am young by Incubator standards. Interacting with you all is occasionally difficult."

A moment later, the Incubator faded into existence, six inches from the top of the crate. Emma blinked as Senbey fell the short distance with a flail of limbs and a flump.

"Calculation error again," muttered Senbey telepathically, slightly crumpled. "How do the others keep doing this so well?"

"Um…."

"Oh, hello!" said Senbey, popping up into a sitting position. The fur still stood out at odd angles from the disorganized fall. "Hello, hello, hi, how are you?"

Emma blinked at Senbey again. "…you're not very good at this, are you?"

Senbey seemed to pout. "Maa, Emma, just because I'm young…."

"As if that actually means anything," said Emma, frowning. "It's been hours, how are you just now getting to me?"

Senbey looked contrite. "Unfortunately, we had already reallocated resources to other things— Not that you are not important!" it tagged on hastily as Emma glowered, "but moving resources around requires a lot of different Incubators to agree and then there's the other girls to think about and that's why it took so long to find you."

Emma glared. "So other than making me angry, why are you here?" she asked, folding her arms.

"Well!" said Senbey, waving its tail back and forth cheerily. "Given the fact that you've somehow managed to get aaallllll the way back to the suburbs, you've shown some remarkable resilience to your gem! It really does warrant further study, even if it's a bit of an unusual time, so I'm here to formally request the chance to follow you around! Past experience indicates that humans object to being observed for some reason, but tend to be less antagonistic if asked beforehand."

"It's great to know that I'm a science project for you," said Emma sarcastically. "Truly an honor."

"Excellent! If you don't mind, then, I will be taking a nap!"

"Wait- no, that's not—," sputtered Emma ineffectually. It was too late though. The Incubator had curled up in the exact center of the crate and begun snoring softly.

"Ugh," said Emma exasperatedly, before sitting down against the crate again. Goddess damned Incubators. Kyubey had at least been something resembling courteous, but this guy….

Emma sighed and closed her eyes, settling in for a nap herself. At least the Incubator had something right. Naps were always good.

* * *

"You've seen the future, right Madoka?" asked Sayaka.

"Well, sort of," said Madoka. She and Sayaka were lying on a grassy field spotted with flowers. Overhead, countless stars in an infinite variety of color sparkled against a dark sky. "It depends on a lot of things."

"But you've seen something, at least?"

"Yes," said Madoka.

"Can you tell me?"

"…it's… no, I don't think I can."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid that if I do, I'll make it happen."

"What, you're superstitious?" asked Sayaka incredulously. "About what? Yourself?"

Madoka giggled. "It's silly, I know, but…."

"Whatever," said Sayaka, rolling her eyes. "It's, well, I guess it's not that important anyway. I was just curious."

There was a gust of wind that tossed flower petals into the air. When the wind died down, no trace remained that anyone had been there.

* * *

"Oi. Emma, was it? Wake up."

Emma rubbed her eyes and looked up. Nodoka was standing over her, looking slightly more amused than before.

"Oh, hey," said Emma sleepily. "Is it time to go?"

"Well I'd just leave you there drooling otherwise," said Nodoka. "C'mon, up and at 'em."

Emma hurriedly wiped her mouth and brushed the saliva onto her costume. "So, um, what's the plan?" she asked, standing and tossing her backpack on. Senbey had disappeared.

"First, you aren't doing anything," said Nodoka. She pulled her mask down and adjusted it. "We've got enough issues without you mucking about. Just don't panic and do something stupid."

"Oh."

Nodoka glanced at her. "And get any ideas that you can keep up with us in combat out of your head. You're too green."

"No, I understand," said Emma, looking away with embarrassment. "I uh. I'm sorry about earlier."

"Eh, whatever," said Nodoka with a shrug. She gestured for Emma to follow. "S'long as you get the reality of the situation."

Emma nodded as they climbed the stairs. "So, uh, me following aside, what else is happening?"

"Well, in response to you appearing and us blowing up part of a supply depot, the squid have sent an extra company's worth of seek and destroy drones," said Nodoka. The stairway opened into a hallway by some bathrooms, then directly into the open courtyard. Emma didn't see or feel anyone. "So getting to the extraction point is going to be a bit hairy, even with Maria's stealth generation skills."

In retrospect, it was probably all staged just to scare her. Emma jumped as three more girls, all wearing skull masks at various angles, appeared to bracket her.

"That's Mia," said Nodoka, coming to a stop and turning. She nodded at a girl with a scarlet headband tied around her eyes, the rest of her costume a dress of assorted whites and blues. "Team sensor type. Say hi, Mia."

"Hi."

"Maria's the girl to your rear," continued Nodoka. Maria was alarmingly black, in the sense that she seemed to be actively made of shadow, with eyes that glittered yellow. "She's our stealth generator. You know what powers I've got, and I pull close range and command duty. Last but not least is Miss Aggressively Scottish over there, Agapita."

Emma turned to the only girl she hadn't met, even as Agapita protested that she wasn't THAT Scottish, dammit. To be fair, part of Agapita's costume was perfectly plain. Her shirt and vest were white and black, respectively, with gold buttons and a pointless watch chain. Then came flat black trousers, neatly pressed, and classic wingtip patent leather boots that shone with a mirror finish.

This was somewhat offset by the cloak swung around her shoulders, woven in bright red and green plaid. A small hat sat perched atop her head, the brim curled on one side and a large white feather sticking out of it. Most prominently, though, were the—

"Bagpipes?" asked Emma incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Oh shut, up new girl," said Agapita. "Yes they're bagpipes and no it doesn't make me more Scottish. Irish people used to play bagpipes too!"

"Yeah, but they didn't march into battle with them," said Nodoka teasingly. "And the fuckin' plaid you have going there isn't helping."

"To be fair," interjected Emma, "you're not really doing it right if you're wearing part of a three piece under a cloak. It's not actually Scottish, it's just a cloak at that point."

"See, I told you!" said Agapita. "And besides, it's not like plaid automatically makes it Scottish. You're just being racist."

"Ugh, fine, fine, we're wasting time anyway." said Nodoka, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, the plan. Usual business for a target saturated environment, everyone knows the drill. Newbie, you stay with Agapita."

"Er, right," said Emma. It seemed a weird assignment, considering Maria was the stealth generator, but she'd put her foot in her mouth enough times in the last forty-eight hours.

The group moved out. They scattered across a wide area, moving through destroyed buildings to give themselves a bit of cover. The ruined structures had little in terms of obstructions to slow them down though, and the team and Emma made good time across the suburbs.

"So what's your name?" asked Agapita.

"Uh, Emma Sinclair."

"Really?" asked Agapita. "Huh."

"What?"

"Well, my family name is Burnside-Sinclair," said Agapita. "It's probably the single most English thing you've ever heard."

Emma snorted. "It is. Are you from England, or are you just named that way?"

"Nah, the whole family's from England. I'm from East London."

"Oh hey," said Emma, grinning. "I'm from Canary Wharf, myself."

"Aww yeah, Londoners for the win!" said Agapita with a grin. "You seen the expansion to the starport they're making? Gonna be epic."

"No, uh," said Emma, wilting. The two of them ducked into the upper floors of a ruined apartment block. "My family moved."

Agapita frowned. "...Well, I'll find you later and fill you in," she promised as they shot out into the rain again. "Like I said, the thing's gonna be epic."

"I'll look forward to it," said Emma with a smile.

Agapita smiled back, but nodded at the run. "Pay attention now, let's not get shot."

"Right."

Emma took a deep breath and focused on where they were going. The MagOps team had distributed itself across several hundred yards, staying within telepathy range of each other and Maria's magic. They hadn't encountered anything yet. Still, considering the number of drones that should have been incoming…

"I'm getting kind of nervous about this," Emma mentioned to Agapita as they continued running. "This doesn't seem right."

"Yeah, same here," said Agapita. "Nodoka's noticed by now, so we should be—."

Emma and Agapita ducked to the side simultaneously as a laser blast tore through where they'd been a moment ago.

"There they are!" said Agapita, tugging Emma into a building and shooting through the ruins as a dozen attack drones chased after them. "We'll have to shake them!"

"Why not—?" Emma began to say, but cut herself off as she leaped upwards to roll through a broken window, then pushed herself through the air into the building across the street. Agapita was close behind, having made the leap without using aeromaneuver. "Why not just shoot them?"

Agapita huffed. "I'd love to, but it's the worst plan possible."

Emma began to protest, then reconsidered. In the field, knocking out a set of drones usually meant that they wouldn't be replaced. You usually had friendly drones that could take over those positions, but in the rear of the enemy line, that was impossible.

Damn.

"Turn left, advance thirty meters, then turn right," ordered Nodoka. "On my mark…. mark."

Abruptly, Agapita changed direction as they passed through another window and onto the street. Emma barely kept up, skidding on one foot as she hurriedly pumped magic downwards to grip the surface, then launching herself toward Agapita. A small jet of wind cut her forward speed just as Agapita turned right, giving Emma time to—

—tumble headlong as a series of explosions went off just behind her. An instinctual magic shield caught most of the debris that was flung at her, but the explosion was mostly noise and light. Very loud noise and very bright light.

Emma autocorrected as best she could while deaf and partially blinded. She stumbled slightly on the landing, bounced onto a nearby wall, and ran for several meters before leaping off to jump from ruin to ruin. A flash of red heralded Agapita's position.

"Good, we didn't lose track of you," said Agapita with a relieved sigh, running onward.

"Sorry for falling behind," said Emma as she caught up.

"Just try to do better next time," said Agapita. She glanced behind them. "Drones are clear though. Thanks Maria."

"Just doing my job," answered Maria. Her voice was a silky hiss that left Emma's hair standing on end.

"What the hell-?!"

"Side effect of the transformation," whispered Maria. "Hehehe, newbies. Always get freaked out by it, you do."

Emma shivered. "I guess you get used to it."

"Oh it's quite pleasant in the right context," said Agapita with a small grin.

Complete silence.

"Wait, what?" asked Emma. Had she just implied-?

"Don't worry about it-" began Maria, but she never got a chance to finish.

"Contact left!" Nodoka shouted over telepathy. "All units bear right!"

"Shit," said Agapita, pivoting and shooting rightward. Emma was ready this time and followed reasonably well.

"What's going on?"

"Platoon," said Mia. She sounded much more pleasant than Maria did. "We'll be alright."

Emma nodded, then realized Mia couldn't see. "Uh, right."

"Building ahead," called Nodoka. "Labeling it on your comps now. Regroup on the second floor."

Emma blinked, then mentally poked her TacComp. She'd completely forgotten about it.

"This unit is still repairing," reported the TacComp. "Basic functionalities have been restored."

A second later, a waypoint blipped onto her vision, prompting a grin. Ah, jeez, it was good to have even a basic-functions-only TacComp.

"Shadow cloak activated," hissed Maria. "We are invisible for the next twenty seconds."

A dark haze dropped onto Emma, staining her body into a dark, grayed out version of herself. It was slightly freaky, but lasted only briefly. Twenty seconds, as it turned out, was plenty. Agapita and Emma slipped into the building, a relatively undamaged apartment block, with eight seconds to spare.

"Everyone okay?" asked Nodoka. A chorus of affirmatives. "Good. Mia?"

"The extraction point is lousy with squid," said Mia. "It feels like about a platoon's worth, with the complimentary drones."

"Have Agapita lead us in?" suggested Maria.

"That's an idea," said Nodoka. "What else?"

"Could blow them up," said Agapita. "Newbie's rather eager."

"Call it a backup plan," said Nodoka. "Any places to hole up and wait for them to lose interest?"

"Not in the area," said Maria. "Could wait in here, but we don't—."

"Have enough cubes, right," said Nodoka. "Looks like it's a Tattoo then. Agapita, you ready for this?"

"Oh hell yes," said Agapita with a grin. "I was born ready."

Emma blinked confusedly.

"What?"


	3. Homecoming Parade

"This is insane," said Emma.

"Shush," replied Agapita.

The plan had been heinously, ridiculously simple. Agapita would play a song on her bagpipes as the group marched stolidly down the main thoroughfare to the extraction point, where the teleporters would pick them up. Nodoka had developed some degree of clairvoyance, so she would be guiding the teleporters in. Maria could cloak everyone from sensors before they bugged out.

Teleporters plural, yes. Emma hadn't realized, but in hindsight it was obvious. If you needed to really, really rapidly extract a team, then you would have one girl drop herself and another teleporter in with the team, and then have the second teleporter instantaneously pull everyone out. With the combination of cloaking and clairvoyance, it would be fast and secure, with a minimum of expenditure for nearly everyone involved.

But Goddess, the lead up.

Emma took deep, calming breaths as she marched behind Agapita. Maria, Nodoka, who carried Agapita's gem, and Mia followed behind. Maria was trailing black smoke as she marched, magic coiled, leaving Nodoka continuously fighting a sneeze. Agapita made sure the bagpipes were inflated as they went.

"Incoming," said Mia with compete calm. Emma gulped. She really wanted to duck into cover.

Then, with eerie serenity, Agapita began to play.

She began with a drawn out tone from the long pipes. Then, just as the first drones appeared, she began trilling out an even tune, clearly written for marching. Emma felt a tingle wash over her skin and her nervousness fade away. It wasn't the squashing down that emotional suppression created, but rather a firm, and growing, confidence that the team was going to be fine.

The drones were affected as well. They wavered briefly, then quietly switched off. The flying drones clunked to the ground, while ground-based, dog-sized drones simply keeled over where they stood. Emma blinked at this as she continued to march behind Agapita, who seemed tireless in her bagpipe playing.

"What's going on?" Emma asked Nodoka.

"Agapita's got the ability to drop entire companies of squid with those pipes of hers," said Nodoka. "It's not even that they explode or whatever. Somehow they just… switch off."

"Like the drones."

"Exactly like the drones."

"That's… that's really creepy."

"Don't tell her you said that," said Nodoka, stifling a grin and another sneeze. "Fweh. Still, it works really well."

Emma pursed her lips and kept marching. What they really needed was a drummer. Emma's fingers twitched, trying to tap a cadence out as Agapita continued playing. Actual squid were showing up now, arraying themselves across the way and bringing weapons to bear. Astoundingly, they didn't open fire. It was impossible for anyone except a magical girl. One by one, the squid stood to attention and lowered their weapons. As Agapita passed them, they crumpled to the ground.

"Cubes," said Agapita shortly as she continued playing. "Nodoka."

"Right," said Nodoka. She cupped Agapita's gem in her hands, holding it close to Maria. The wisps of smoke concealed the gem and the grief cubes neatly, making it seem like Nodoka was holding her hands out in some sort of religious gesture.

"If you grab my ass, Nodoka," hissed Maria. "I swear—."

"Just because you're the team uke doesn't mean—."

"Is this the time?" asked Emma shortly. She could feel her cheeks reddening.

"Aww, is the newbie embarrassed?" teased Nodoka. "Hey hey, maybe later we should—."

"Nodoka, stop," said Mia, stifling a giggle. She reached forward and pinched Nodoka hard on the back of the neck. "You're letting the magic affect you again."

"Ah— ow! Sorry, sorry, jeez."

Emma resisted the urge to shake her head, a grin spinning its way onto her face anyway. Agapita's magic was starting to have an euphoric effect. It was like when you knew your team was on a roll, during a game, and victory was almost assured. You just had to close out the next few minutes and it'd be a perfect finish.

"We're almost there," said Mia. "Nodoka, concentrate."

Nodoka cleared her throat and coughed. "Right, right. Black Parade to Flash One, we're ready for extraction. Be advised, we've got a greenie from the sticks with us, and will be under cloak. Home in on my link for the teleport."

"Understood Black Parade," replied one of the teleporters. "We'll, uh, plan for one extra and home in with your clairvoyance. Teleport conditions?"

"Hot, but cloaking should cover it," said Nodoka. Her voice was getting steadily more grounded. The mental activity necessary to coordinate helped her shake off the effects of Agapita's magic. Just listening in was keeping Emma's euphoria in check.

"Understood, we'll drop in on your mark then," said the teleporter.

The extraction point, where the limit of the teleporters' ranges were, was just ahead. The number of squid had been steadily increasing as the team had penetrated deeper into enemy space. Agapita was still perfectly fluid in her movement, playing ceaselessly and flawlessly as they continued the march. She didn't seem in any way affected by her efforts, even though Nodoka had already begun draining grief from Agapita's gem.

Then again, no sense taking chances. The team and Emma advanced through a large intersection, where an enemy IFV spontaneously shut itself off, and into a bombed out office building. Automated turrets sparked and failed themselves. Mines clicked into safe mode. It was the most singularly smooth entrance Emma had ever seen.

Maria's magic spread out now, blanketing them in black fog. Emma was briefly startled as she looked down and saw her feet, legs, and torso disappear, but quickly came to grips with it as Agapita worked her magic. The group came to a stop inside the main atrium, grouping into a circle around Agapita.

"We're ready," announced Nodoka.

"Understood," said the teleporter. "In three, two, one—."

A rapid fire flash of blue then orange. Emma blinked as the concrete and hazard-lines of a teleportation room came into focus. Agapita immediately stopped playing with a sigh of relief.

"And that, Ladies," said Nodoka with a satisfied grin, "is how we do that."

* * *

The debriefing of MagOps Team 4, "the Black Parade", was scheduled to happen almost immediately. There was a bit of allowance for everyone to untransform and drop their extra equipment into a locker. The exception was Emma, who wasn't allowed to untransform for unspecified reasons and soon headed to the nearest medical center.

"Hey, don't forget to tell me where you're staying," said Agapita as attendants pursed their libs at Emma's delay. "I still need to update you on everything back home."

"Couldn't we just mental transfer?" asked Emma. "I mean, it seems more efficient."

"Bah, it's no fun alone," said Agapita. "Trust me, I've got this program I pulled offa the net. It'll be cool!"

"Uh, sure, whatever then," said Emma, shrugging. One of the attendants began tapping a foot. "I should go."

"Take care of yourself, newbie," said Nodoka as Emma made placating gestures and began to edge away.

"Yeah, stay safe," added Maria, voice now returned to normal. She was actually rather pretty as a normal person rather than a shadow ghoul. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, yeah," said Emma, waving as she got ushered off, trailing mud and bits of masonry. "See you guys around or something."

The redoubt's ceilings were lower than Emma would have preferred. The entire structure was made of concrete with alloy rebar, designed to hold up to massive explosions that would level large amounts of surface-Helsinberg. Still, this didn't mean that everything was pure utilitarian, monochrome, exposed concrete. Every hallway was painted over with semi-intelligent paint. The default was a gentle shade of mauve, but you could perceive it as whatever color you wanted.

It also served as a convenient backup for if there was a breach and the network went down. When under attack, the paint automatically transitioned to high visibility white-on-blue and provided directions over your implants. It couldn't be hacked, either, though she had no idea why.

Emma decided on a pastel lime green. It was the sort of color you'd expect from a macaron. A bit of fiddling got the walls to display a translucent overlay of fleur-de-lis patterns. Maybe she could—

A mental yoink made her veer left suddenly. She autocorrected and dodged a passing drone as the attendants came to a stop with sighs.

"Pay attention, please," said one of the attendants exasperatedly. "Your health is important, and it's best to get it checked as soon as possible."

"Sorry, sorry," said Emma. She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

"Come on," said the other attendant. Emma followed them, actually paying attention this time, into the med center. She was lead into an examination room, where a nurse and small platoon of medical drones were waiting.

Emma stopped short at the doorway. "Is this really necessary?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just in case," said the attendant, gently pushing Emma inwards.

Reluctantly, Emma shuffled into the room.

"Hello!" greeted the nurse, extending a hand to shake. "My name's Angelo Huerta, how are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," said Emma, shaking his hand. "My name is Emma Sinclair."

"It's good to meet you, Emma," said Angelo with a smile. "I understand this all looks rather intimidating, but I'm sure you know how important we all consider magical girls to be. We just want to be absolutely sure that you're okay, alright?"

"I, uh, I guess," said Emma. "I was uh, I was told that I shouldn't untransform yet."

"That's correct," said Angelo. He led her over to one of the drones. "We need to take a baseline of your gem's drainage rate, to make sure it's within expected bounds. If you could?"

"Just put it in this slot here?" asked Emma, pulling out her gem and stepping to the machine. It had a housing for her gem and a box of grief cubes. The idea, apparently, was to keep a digital eye on her gem by measuring the amount it glowed, then feed it cubes when needed. "And uh, why does the rate matter?"

"The MHD uses it to evaluate if they need to do an emergency visit," said Angelo. The machine whirred briefly, then beeped. "The results will be sent to the MHD. You're well within normal ranges though, so you're free to untransform and change."

The rest of the examination went about as expected. Emma's street clothes, her jeans especially, had gotten ragged from the long slog. They were sent off to the laundry for repairs. Emma had been given a set of generic underclothes and loose, airy pants and shirt. Angelo ended up being somewhat redundant, acting only as a technician to begin the repairs to Emma's implants and TacComp. The drones took care of everything.

"Well, I'll let you rest," said Angelo, leaving Emma swinging her legs on the side of the bed. "We'll need to keep you under observation for a few hours, but since you're looking good, we've sent a notification to your unit commander and friends. It's set to automatically propagate after they get after duty."

"Oh, ok," said Emma with a relieved sigh. She had been worried she might ruin someone's concentration. Then she grimaced. "Do I really need to stay here?"

"I'm sorry, but it's procedure," said Angelo. He smiled commiseratingly and shrugged.

"Ah, fine, whatever," said Emma, sighing again. She flopped backwards onto the bed. "This sucks."

"I understand," said Angelo. "We have a list of vids and games you can try, if your friends take—."

The door chimed urgently.

"Ah, I assume—," began Angelo, stepping to the side and deactivating the privacy locks. He never got a chance to finish as Ayane literally flew into the room, slamming into Emma and knocking her back onto the bed.

"You stupid, stupid idiot!" shouted Ayane, clutching tightly onto Emma's body as she cried. "I— I was— I was so scared you were—!"

Emma wrapped her arms around Ayane as the other girl dissolved into wracking sobs. Unnoticed to either of them, Angelo quietly slipped out and closed the door behind him to leave them alone. It would be unprofessional for him to stay, and there wasn't anything pressing anyway.

"Shh, shh, I'm back," said Emma, rubbing soothing circles into Ayane's back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Stupid," murmured Ayane into Emma's chest. She weakly punched Emma in the shoulder. "Stupid stupid stupid. W-What'd you go and get lost for?"

"Shh, I'm sorry, don't worry, I'm back now," said Emma soothingly. She patted Ayane on the head, then smoothed her braid back. Ayane was wearing generic hospital clothing as well. "Wait, why're you in hospital clothes? Are you hurt?"

"Mm-mm," said Ayane. "I— they, t-the MHD, made me check in for o-observation. They were afraid I'd f-fade."

Emma bit her lip and pulled Ayane closer. "Oh, Ayane," she whispered. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to… to…"

Ayane sniffed. "Idiot."

"I'm sorry."

"…I-It's okay," Ayane managed. "Y-you're back now."

"Yeah," said Emma. She rubbed her head against Ayane's. "Do you… do you want to stay a bit? Watch a vid?"

Ayane nodded. She let Emma up and sat nearby, rubbing at her eyes. Emma levered herself upright, popping out a crick in her back from Ayane's tackle.

"S-sorry," said Ayane. She sat with her hands in her lap, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and looking away from Emma.

"Don't worry about it," said Emma. She directed the bed to auto-recline, letting them lean back against it. "I, ah, understand where you're coming from."

Ayane smiled wobblily at Emma. "T-thanks. If, um, if you don't mind, could I…?"

She looked away again, this time blushing.

Emma felt herself blushing as well. It made sense, sort of, that Ayane wanted more bodily contact. Some people were more comforted by being able to touch someone. Emma wasn't one of them, but a well timed hug or pat on the shoulder could do wonders for a teammate feeling discouraged. What Ayane was asking was a little more than that, and really, Emma wanted to help her feel better, but, well…

"I'm, uh, uh," stammered Emma. "This is, uh…"

"If you're not comfortable—."

"No it's fine," said Emma immediately. "Er, that is, it's… I'm not… really into girls, and uh, if you are, I don't want to send mixed messages."

"Oh, nonono," said Ayane. "S-sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I guess yes, I'm kind of interested, but not right now, and uh—."

"As long as I'm not going to screw things up, it's fine," said Emma quickly, saving Ayane from further stammered responses. "I know that, uh, physical contact, can help people, so um… yeah."

There was a brief silence that Emma filled with awkwardly shuffling back and forth, before adjusting the bed's recline pointlessly and moving over to lean back against it. The bed dipped slightly as Ayane moved over to sit close to her.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, before Ayane wrapped her arms around one of Emma's. The tightness of Ayane's grip, while not enough to be painful or cut circulation, pressed her close against Emma. The heat that radiated off of Ayane had a strange double effect on Emma. Part of her wanted to edge away, but another part of her wanted to get closer. She compromised by doing neither.

She was also highly aware of the fact that Ayane's body was surprisingly soft and yielding. It was probably a result of being a science-type person. Emma wasn't used to it. She was used to running into people who were more tightly muscled, able to put up resistance against a hit. The exact opposite to… this.

"So, um, what do you want to watch?" asked Emma. The list of vids propagated across their vision in a shared arc.

"Mm, I dunno," said Ayane. "Something kinda quiet?"

"Okay," said Emma. "How does this one sound?"

The title of the vid was "These Dimmed City Lights". It was about an old, embittered Soul Guard getting embroiled into a massive investigation. Multiple made-up matriarchies, a few mobsters, and a slinky Shizuki girl were all involved. That last one would certainly be a protagonist, given the politics of dealing with real matriarchies.

It was extremely bog-standard. The usual sort of vid that producers made for not-to-well-known actors who had some decent talent. But it would probably be fairly low key, which was what Ayane wanted, and have a few nice action sequences, which would keep Emma suitably entertained.

Ayane considered. "Mmm… it sounds decent. Let's try it."

"Do you, uh, want to get any food or something?" asked Emma as the vid started.

Ayane shook her head.

"Alright then."

The two of them laid back as the film began. The bed was luxuriously comfortable. Tilted at just the right angle, Emma could feel herself nodding off. That was odd, but she had been given quite a lot of drugs for implant repair. Maybe this was a side effect.

With a sleepy blink, Emma checked the progress on her implants. There were a lot of chemicals that the implants produced, along with the drugs, to help with repairs and integration into the body, but that apparently wasn't the culprit. What was making her so tired was the energy draw from the implants in order to finish repairs. The status dialogue even warned that drowsiness and disorientation may occur, and that she should find a place to rest.

Well, Emma wasn't going to be disoriented anytime soon. She yawned hugely. The heat from Ayane's body was amplifying her sleepiness.

"Sleepy cat," said Ayane. She poked Emma teasingly in the side.

"Mmgnh," mumbled Emma. She let herself slowly sag into Ayane, head drooping onto the other girl's shoulder. "S'rry."

"It's okay," said Ayane.

"The implants'r, um, weird," explained Emma sleepily.

Ayane nodded. "Go to sleep."

"But the vid…"

"It's fine, don't worry."

"M'kay…"

"…Emma?"

"Mm?"

"I'm glad you're back."

* * *

Emma slowly slipped out of sleep. Blinking, she yawned and rubbed her face into Ayane's shoulder. Nnnh… soft.

"Hey, are you up?" asked Ayane. She poked Emma gently in the cheek. "You've got visitors."

Emma blinked again and looked up. A small group was gathered around her bed.

"Oh," said Emma, breaking into a grin. "Hey guys."

Everyone had come to visit. Rebecca and Varsha had claimed a chair, with Rebecca sitting in Varsha's lap. Emily had occupied the other chair, and was trying very hard to look cool. Renee was perched on the end of the bed, petting Alanis' cat form.

"Hey yourself," said Alanis, shaking off Renee's hand and jumping off the bed. She slid back into human form as she fell, then turned and stretched. "Nnh. Did you sleep well?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I guess?" said Emma. She realized suddenly that she'd managed to get herself tangled around Ayane's arm in her sleep. Emma consciously tried not to jerk away too quickly. Part of it was so that she didn't accidentally slight Ayane, but also because playing it casual would, hopefully, prevent any teasing that might occur.

She wasn't really sure she succeeded, in the end. Ayane's hand seemed to drift towards Emma's as Emma drew away, but it stopped early and landed on the covers instead. As the conversation began to pick up, Ayane scooted to the edge of the bed to let her legs dangle.

"You have got some nerve, leaving us in the lurch like that," said Renee with false haughtiness. The aristocratic air she was trying to project failed miserably as she smiled. "Welcome back, Emma."

"The projections for you were stupid low," said Varsha. "It's amazing that you survived, much less got back here in one piece."

"No, the projections were just stupid," said Rebecca with a confident nod. "I knew you'd be back, Emma. If you were gunna die, it'd be in a big firefight, not during a retreat."

"How d'you know that then?" asked Emma, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a precognitor in secret, didn't you know?" asked Rebecca. "Right guys?"

There was a moment of pure silence.

"Aww, come on!"

Ayane rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, you can see the future. Though—" She furrowed her brow. "—you are right, sometimes. It's a little freaky."

"Well anyway," said Emily, rolling her eyes at the younger girls. "Glad to see you're back in one piece, new girl."

"Bah, why so cold, Emily?" asked Emma, grinning. She hadn't realized Emily's attitude would be something she'd miss.

"Well you know," said Emily, doing her best to look casual, "not really looking forward to saving your ass again."

"Says the girl who was crying when she found out," quipped Rebecca.

Emily scowled at her. "Shut up."

Emma laughed. It really was good to be back. "You've all introduced yourselves then?"

"Yes, and nearly got into a fight besides," said Renee. "Ms. Cross took offense to Rebecca's teasing."

"Shut UP."

"In her defense," piped up Ayane. "Rebecca can be very loud."

Alanis nodded in agreement. "My poor ears," she said, wincing as she rubbed her ears.

"Hey, that's my girlfriend you're talking about!" protested Varsha with a grin. "Watch it, or I'll be forced to defend her honor!"

"Oh, my valorous princess," sighed Rebecca overdramatically, draping herself across Varsha. "Do not go forth unto battle for my sake, for surely only death awaits you!"

"Hey, hey, some support, c'mon!"

"But she's OLD!" cried Rebecca. "Have you not heard that experience outstrips the strength of youth?"

"Oi," said Alanis flatly, her ears matching her tone.

The group had a laugh at her expense.

"Hey, so, I don't see Qing Duo," said Emma after the laughter died down. "Is she still on duty or something?"

An awkward silence fell.

"Qing Duo didn't… make it, during the retreat," said Alanis.

Emma blinked, then swallowed hard. "O-oh. That's…"

"Yeah."

"D-did she, um, did she fade? Or was it…?"

"No, she faded away," said Emily. "She— her platoon got zeroed by squid artillery. She managed to help most of them get away before she died. It was—," Emily sniffed and swallowed, wiping at her eyes angrily. "It was actually really impressive to see. It just pisses me off that we couldn't do anything to help."

Emma bit her lip. It was a bad business. Getting hit by an artillery strike like that was inevitably bad. Sometimes it was because you screwed up, and other times there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was always devastating, unless…

…well, unless a magical girl pulled off a minor miracle, like Qing Duo had.

"I… I didn't know her as well as you guys did, but—," began Emma, before she paused to swallow. Her throat felt surprisingly thick. "But it sounds like, in the end…"

"It'd be the way I'd prefer to go," said Alanis. "I just wish she could be here."

"Yeah."

The group was quiet. Their silence was somber and contemplative. Death was a constant for magical girls. There were innumerable ways to die on the battlefield, after all. Even if, miraculously, there hadn't been a war going on, you would have still been dependent on grief cubes to survive. For them, few things were more tenuous than life.

Emma sighed. "We should have a ceremony," she said. Dwelling on this was bad for everyone involved. They had to move on. "Or, um, did you do that already?"

"No, we were… we were going to wait and do a joint one, actually," said Varsha. "It was looking grim, for you, so we figured we'd ask your unit if they wanted to come with. And then we found out about Qing Duo, so…."

"Alright," said Emma. Hearing her own funeral plans would be a little unnerving, but she pressed on grimly. "So, what arrangements did you guys make? Can we go ahead with them for Qing Duo?"

Alanis nodded, rubbing at an eye. "I just have to square some things away, since I'm our ranking officer. There's a city farther back in Kolasi where we can have a ceremony without risking getting bombed. We can hitch a ride on a supply drone to and back."

"Ranking officer?" asked Emma. "I thought you were a First Lieutenant?"

"Nah, Alanis got promoted," said Emily. She had dropped her act. It was too painful to keep it up. "She's _Captain_ Siyankin now."

"Shush," said Alanis, sounding distinctly embarrassed despite everything. "Anyway. The plan we came up with was a bit of a picnic and a bonfire vigil. I… guess the others won't be coming now, so—."

"No, we didn't know her, but I think we'd all be willing to come honor Qing Duo," said Ayane. She glanced around and received nods from Renee, Varsha, and Rebecca. "So please, if you'll have us, we'd like to come too."

"In that case, please," said Alanis. "Qing Duo deserves more than three girls at her funeral. That doesn't change the plan all that much though."

"Alright," said Emma. She took a deep breath to center herself. It all felt a bit mad, but Emma preferred that. She could handle a little madness. It was stagnation that she couldn't handle. "When are we headed out?"

"There's still a week left," said Alanis. "We were going to wait it out a bit longer, for you. Seems like that was a good idea, yeah?"

Emma smiled. "Yeah. Thanks for not giving up on me."


	4. Post Operative Care

Emma's repairs finished quickly. Ayane was found by a slightly panicked nurse soon afterwards, and given a vigorous scolding for running off. The group had a good laugh at Ayane's expense, before dispersing to leave Emma and Ayane in the hands of the medical personnel.

The two of them were quickly herded off to separate places. Both had mandatory psychiatric evaluations to attend, but Emma went to be debriefed first. She and Ayane bid each other farewell, then went their separate ways.

Emma's debriefing was several hallways over, in a sparsely furnished but well lit room. One of the intelligence officers from Division HQ greeted her as she entered, and quickly began sending a battery of questions her way. It was a standard physical debriefing, and Emma reported the facts as best she could. It was all saved for later use.

After what felt like an entire eon, Emma was dismissed and sent to her psych eval. She hovered apprehensively outside the door of the consultation room for her appointment, keeping it from opening specifically to put the appointment off a bit longer. It was a bit irrational of her, but for some reason she felt nervous. The only other time she'd been to a psychiatrist had been for her initial evaluation, back when she'd first contracted. She hadn't been nervous then though.

Ugh. Screw it.

Emma keyed the door, then stepped through. The room was small and sparsely decorated, belying its transitory nature. It had been left largely unfurnished, with a pair of comfortable looking armchairs surrounding a table in the center. A small synthesizer stood at the end for any drinks that might be asked for.

"Uh, hello," said Emma, closing the door behind her. It sealed out the noise in the hallway quite well.

"Hello," said the psychiatrist with a smile. She was part of the MHD as a matter of course. "How are you? Please, have a seat. My name is Jessica Valenti."

"I'm uh, I'm doing alright," said Emma as she sat across from Jessica.

"That's good," said Jessica. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"Um, could I have a cup of tea, actually?" asked Emma.

"Sure," said Jessica. "You're British, so you'd want an English Cuppa, right? Tea from that one particular blend and milk?"

"Oh, yes, and two sugars please," said Emma, pleasantly surprised. "A Cuppa" was a British anachronism. She hadn't expected someone to randomly know what that was.

The synthesizer whirred and extruded two mugs.

"Here's yours," said Jessica. "I like my tea black though."

Emma raised an eyebrow as she took a sip. Mmmm… "It's so bitter though."

"Even if you adjust the strength?" asked Jessica.

"Well then it just gets bland and boring," said Emma. "You can't win with black tea, is what I'm saying here."

"Hmm, I suppose," said Jessica thoughtfully. She took another sip of her tea. "Well, maybe I'm just strange then."

"Mmm. Thanks for the cuppa, though."

"Don't mention it."

The drank in silence for a bit, Jessica apparently waiting for something. Emma stared at the contents of her cup, then looked up and to the left at the corner of the room. Then she looked down at the table, then back to her cup. After a moment, she took a deep breath.

"So, what are we doing today?" Emma asked.

"It's nothing to be worried about," said Jessica. "The MHD just wants a basic diagnostic. I'm sure you're fine, and this will just be a formality."

"Well, what do you need to ask me about?" asked Emma. She bit her lip and looked away. "I uh, I'd like to get this over with."

"Just a few questions about your experiences lately," said Jessica. "Your debrief's covered basic details, of course, but there were a few places I'd like to go over again."

Ah yes. This was the reason Emma had been nervous.

"…might as well get it over with," said Emma finally. She set her tea down and braced herself. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, let's start with your decision to have your platoon pull back without you," said Jessica. "It's a very interesting decision. The rationale you've provided makes sense, but can you tell me more about why protecting your platoon is so important to you?"

Emma raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I mean… how could it not be?"

"Can you elaborate?"

"Not really," said Emma, scratching her nose. "I mean, sure, there are times when it's not possible, but shouldn't you do everything you can? Do people think that it's not important?"

"Well, yes," said Jessica. "There are many who'd argue that the survival of a magical girl is worth a platoon of soldiers."

Emma frowned unhappily. "I… guess? In theory? But it's like, you can't just call one girl enough to cover an entire square kilometer. You need more people with experience who know what to do. Especially if you don't have the experience necessary."

"I see. Doesn't that seem kind of denigrating to you?"

"I mean, I'm not going to sugar coat this for myself," said Emma. "You can't do that, especially if you're put in a leadership position with a team to run. If you're not honest with yourself, you're just going to tear the team down."

"Can't you rely on the network's predictions and updates to keep things going?" asked Jessica. "Or even let your warrant officer worry about it all. You're young, as you said."

"I guess I could," said Emma. "But then what's the point of being an officer? I may as well resign and re-enlist as a private."

"You would say, then, that your rank is important to you?"

"I feel like I should act to deserve it, yeah," said Emma. "If you're going to be a leader, then you should lead."

"And do you think you can do that successfully?" asked Jessica.

"No," said Emma. "I mean, well, kind of? But I… I didn't do that great of a job, this time. Like I said, I think that I just don't have enough experience to deal with stuff on the scale of open combat that well. I'll get better though."

"Hm, I see," said Jessica. She blinked thoughtfully. "That's an interesting way of looking at things. Is there anything else you want to add?"

"Umm… not really."

"Alright, we'll move on," said Jessica. "Would you like more tea?"

Emma shook her head, fingering the edge of her hoodie. She suddenly felt like she'd said too much.

"Alright. Well then, next question, can you tell me more about your reaction to finding Third Platoon in the position they had been holding?"

Emma gulped and drank from her mug. She took a long time. Jessica shifting in slight impatience finally prompted her to stop stalling.

"I uh… I was upset," said Emma. "I… I…"

Jessica waited patiently.

"…Can I skip this question?" asked Emma, blinking rapidly. "I'd… I'd rather not talk about it."

"That's fine," said Jessica, nodding. "I will note, however, that most girls find it beneficial to talk about it eventually. Your friends will be more than willing to help, I'm sure, and the MHD is always open to listening."

"I— yeah, okay," said Emma. She licked her lips. "I'm just… I'm not ready yet."

"I understand," said Jessica. "In that case, can you tell me more about working with the Black Parade?"

"Oh, they were pretty cool," said Emma. "Though, I'm not sure how much of their innuendo I should take seriously."

"Like what?"

"Well, Nodoka called Maria the 'team uke'," said Emma. "If you're uh… well uh, it's kind of awkward…"

"I know the term," said Jessica, pressing her lips together firmly. Emma was almost certain the psychiatrist was blushing, but the lighting was just dim enough to make it ambiguous. "I wouldn't think too much of it. MagOps teams can be… unusual."

"I know, right?" asked Emma rhetorically. "Agapita played the bagpipes. It was a little creepy."

"How so?"

"She's got the ability to sort of directly force squid to drop dead or something," said Emma, shivering. "It was kind of cool at the time, but now that I think more about it..."

"Isn't one of your friends a mind controller though?"

"What, Rebecca? Rebecca's different."

"Can you elaborate?"

"I mean, it's a really just sort of a, uh, a tickling feeling," said Emma. "We got bored once and she led me on a dance. Like I said, it sort of tickled. But Agapita's power feels like… well it makes you really happy, I guess."

"Isn't that a… well, not unpleasant thing?"

"Normally, but its more subconscious than Rebecca's powers. You can't really feel Agapita's, and that's kinda freaky."

"I see," said Jessica. "Well, I've not had that experience, but you've taken it in stride it seems. How do you feel about your life in general then?"

"I mean… it could be better," said Emma. "I found out one of my teammates died today. That sucked."

"But overall…?"

"I guess in general, I'm sort of falling into the average newbie, aren't I?" said Emma. "You know, screws up a lot, has to get rescued by older girls, generally behaves unintelligently…"

"Well, all new contractees go through an acclimation period," said Jessica reassuringly. "Don't worry. It will get better."

"I hope so," said Emma. She sighed. "I've been making a right hash of it lately."

Jessica nodded sympathetically. "If it helps, you've been doing much better than I did."

"I mean, not really, but thanks for the sentiment," said Emma. She smiled a little at Jessica. "I measure myself against what I expect from myself is all."

"You're a footballer, if I recall?"

"Yes."

"That would explain a lot then," said Jessica. "Sports people tend to be like that. The drive for self improvement, right?"

"Yeah, exactly," said Emma.

"How do you feel about going back into combat then?" asked Jessica.

"Pretty good, I'd like to get moving," said Emma with a decisive nod. "It's… I dunno, I don't like sitting for too long."

"I understand," said Jessica. "If that's the case, then I think we're done here. I'll see about getting you something to do while the administration spins."

"Do you think, uh, that it's going to be alright?" asked Emma hopefully.

"I do, actually," said Jessica. "You appear to be coping well, even though you've had some trying experiences. The adolescent mind is more malleable and adaptive, so that's to be expected."

Emma grinned as she got up to go. "I'll uh, I'll look forward to my approval for combat duty then."

"Well, don't get your hopes up," said Jessica. "This meeting has been recorded, and someone senior to me will review it. If they decide that I missed something, they'll want to have you do another eval."

"Oh," said Emma, deflating. "I see."

"But we'll see," said Jessica. She sent Emma her contact information. "If you ever want to talk, send me a chat request, okay?"

"Alright," said Emma. Her TacComp filed it away for her. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're very welcome," said Jessica. She gave Emma smile and a handshake. "Have a good day!"

* * *

Rapid transit in the redoubt was almost entirely identical to rapid transit on Earth. The only difference was that on Earth, you could see outside. Here, everything was up-armored and windowless in case the squid exploded something nearby. They were also all identical single person pods, since the extra space to have multiple types of vehicle was better utilized by supply drones or reserve materiel storage.

Emma's TacComp pinged, informing her of new situation updates. She told it to bother her later. She had no desire to deal with it right now. It was guaranteed to be unpleasant reading, and after going through debriefing and psych eval, Emma really just wanted to have a nap. Maybe another cup of tea.

She was headed to Residence Block 4E. It had been built just like every other residence block in the redoubt. The entry way was narrow and low ceilinged, only wide enough for four transport pods to drop off their cargo or passengers. According to her TacComp, Emma's entire training cohort had been assigned there, along with a multiplicity of other girls from different units. Emma would be rooming next to Ayane, Varsha, Rebecca, and Renee. The idea, apparently, was that they'd give each other moral support as the fight continued.

The ride was short. Stepping out of her transit pod, Emma was greeted by two large, multi-paneled concrete blocks. Thick enough to withstand an AT Missile, the blocks were large enough to provide cover for several people in case of an attack. The surface of each block had been painted over with graffiti. It ranged from scribbled words of vague legibility to oil paintings, still slightly damp and crafted by a devotee to the art. Both stretched onto the floor and the walls, then reached up to span across the ceiling in a spray of color. Each step taken treaded across a flower or animal or hand or face, all rendered in myriad shapes and colors.

Emma paused to look at one of the paintings. It was a portrait of a magical girl, smiling melancholically at the viewer from the surface of the concrete. Her face was delicately boned, like you would expect of someone from Asiatic descent, but her eyes were a clear and vibrant hazel. Curling brown hair framed her face, and freckles dotted across her nose. The city of Helsinberg could be seen in the background, along with the rest of the valley. It had been rendered as it had been before the war, in full sun from the star overhead. An inscription had been written in the bottom corner:

Ashley Fong

Born: July 17, 2436

Deceased: April 15, 2452

Abruptly, Emma recalled who she was. Ashley had been one of the older contractees in her training cohort. She'd been slated for Magi Caeli training, actually, given her ability to fire streams of plasma out of her hands. Renee had been unspeakably jealous, resulting in not a few spats on the training field. Their instructor had finally banged their heads together and made them get along.

"Did you know her?" asked a passing girl.

"I… not really," said Emma. "She had it out with a friend of mine though."

"Hah, yeah?" said the girl. "Bellamy or whoever?"

"Bellanger," corrected Emma, smiling. She looked over to the other girl. "Renee Bellanger."

"Ah, right," said the girl, who had been identified by Emma's nomenclator as "Elise Mandel", with a shrug. "Ashley used to complain about her all the time. I never understood what the problem was."

"You were friends with Ashley?"

"Yeah," said Elise. She sighed and reached out, brushing her fingers over the face painted onto the cement. "Yeah, I was."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

The two of them stared at Ashley's portrait for a while.

"Well anyway," said the girl. "I need to go. See you around Emma."

"See you, Elise."

Elise wiped her eyes once before she got into her transport pod. Emma sighed again and went up the steps past the concrete blocks. The paint continued, trailing off a few feet from the steps just before reaching a second set of blocks for defense in depth. Past this was a small open space, then the first of many large pillars.

As Emma walked, doors opened to admit or emit a magical girl. Some of them were going to combat duty, either on the surface or for demon patrol. Magical girls were usually kept in reserve, however, so most of the girls were either going to, or coming from, the chuen.

The chuen was the commercial space next to the redoubt's production centers. Most everyone went there in order to relax and hang out with friends. Emma hadn't been by yet, obviously, but her TacComp had helpfully pulled up a catalog as she traveled from her evaluation to Block 4E. There were a variety of bars, restaurants, and coffee or tea houses she could visit. Hell, there was even a library, swimming pool, and a scattering of rentable private rooms.

But for now, as was typical of her, Emma fancied a nap more than anything else. She made her way to the pillar her TacComp had highlighted. The door opened automatically as she approached. A streak of color swung past with a whoosh of rushing air. Emma had a moment to take a breath before the gravity elevator lifted her in and let her drop straight down.

It was an exhilarating ride, heightened by the ability to pinwheel as she wished. The elevator pushed her upright, just before depositing her gently onto the landing of her room cluster.

Each pillar opened onto a hexagonal landing, surrounded by six rooms. Each door was numbered and had the resident labeled holographically on the side. Emma looked around. The first door was Rebecca's, with Varsha's to her left and Renee to her right. Emma followed around to the left, circling past Ayane's room to her own, and then…

…the room belonging to Tracy Geyeller.

Emma stopped short, blinking at the text hovering beside the door next to hers. The text blurred, and Emma hurriedly rubbed at her eyes. The indicator ring just behind the text was red, the room's occupant absent. She must not be out of the hospital yet. A search confirmed this, and said that she'd be elevated from a comatose state in two days, following successful body restoration.

Emma immediately sent a request to attend Tracy's reawakening. There was a momentary delay, before a voice call request came through.

"Hello?" asked Emma, sniffling and wiping her eyes again. Damn.

"Hello, my name is Megan Chavez, I'm a psychiatrist with the MHD," said the girl on the other end. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Tracy."

Emma narrowed her eyes, confused. "I was her commander during the attack where she lost her body."

"Why do you wish to be at her reawakening?"

"What do you mean?" asked Emma. "Of course I have to be there!"

"That… may not be advisable," said Megan delicately. "While your motivation makes sense at face value, the MHD is very cautious about reawakenings. We would like to ask you a few questions to do a deeper analysis before we approve your request."

Emma flinched. That was- seriously? What, did they think Emma was doing this purely as a formality? She shot the girl herself! She wasn't going to just leave Tracy adrift after doing something like that!

But if Emma had learned anything from working with Ingrid, it'd been how to hold her temper and work the problem, not just yell at it until it stopped being frustrating.

"I understand," Emma managed after a moment. "I… I still want to be there. What questions do you need to ask me to make sure I, uh-."

"Your post-mission evaluator was Jessica Valenti, right?" asked Megan. "I've sent her a notice, and she will make an appointment with you within the next few days."

"Alright," said Emma. She rubbed her nose frustratedly. "I just- I just want to be there, when she wakes up."

"If it doesn't work out," said Megan. "You're allowed to be in the waiting room, where we send her out. It's just the immediate moment after waking that we're cautious about."

"Yeah," said Emma, voice strained. "Yeah, I- thank you for telling me that."

"You're welcome. Have a good day."

"Yeah."

The call ended.

Emma sighed unhappily and let her head clunk against the wall over Tracy's name. Goddess above, that had been annoying. It took a moment, but Emma was able to shove her frustration into a corner of her mind for later disposal.

With a frustrated huff, Emma turned and went into her room. It's interior was plain and laid out in a hexagon the same size as the landing. The walls were the same shade of lime-cheesecake-green that she'd set when she'd just arrived. Emma's backpack and armor plates had been cleaned and stacked to the side.

The majority of the room was taken up by the bed, which started near the center and then extended back towards the far wall and terminated in a table/desk surface. Four drawers were underneath the mattress, allowing her to store whatever she ended up needing to store. The blankets were black, oddly enough, but then black did match any color other than dark navy.

Emma sighed and sat down on the bed, then fell backwards with a thump. She closed her eyes, trying to sleep. That's why she was here, wasn't it?

...nope, not happening. A glance at her chronometer told her that yes, it had, in fact, only been one minute. Emma knew herself well enough to know that this meant she was never going to get to sleep, especially now that she didn't even need to. She sent out a quick telepathic ping.

"Heyhey, didn't you say you were going to bed?" asked Rebecca. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah," said Emma. "I… I had an annoying conversation with an MHD shrink just now. Too annoyed."

"Hehe, well, if you need to blow off some steam~"

"Rebecca," broke in Varsha, sounding extremely unamused. "You are not starting a harem."

"Bleh, you're just jealous."

"Anyway," said Ayane, clearly rolling her eyes from her room. Her tone turned more somber. "Don't you have some stuff to catch up on about your company? I uh… well, I know that the infantry had a bad time of it."

Emma paused. She didn't really want to do that right now, but... "I guess, yeah," she said eventually. "I should do that."

"Do you… want to work on this in a group?" asked Ayane. "The rooms aren't that big, but the news might not be good, so…"

"I'll come find you later, if I need to," said Emma. "Thanks for the offer."

"Yeah. I… good luck."

"Thanks."

Emma licked her lips apprehensively, then opened her update queue. It had been stashed to the side, but now scrolled translucently across the right hand side of her vision.

…Goddess, it'd been complete destruction. C Company was down to only twelve percent of its maximum readiness, with no replacements available to bolster its strength. In fact, the entire 12th Division had effectively disappeared in the fighting. The remainder had been squashed together with the remnants of an armored division to form the 2nd Armored Cavalry Division. It was a frankensteinian thing whose command structure was still being sorted out.

A message caught Emma's eye. "C Company Command Restructuring."

That was… ominous.

Emma opened the update and immediately gasped. Mei Ling had died, burning into oblivion after she managed to stop a squid SpecOps raid on the mobile command post. Fatima was on temporary leave to mourn. She'd been fighting with Mei Ling for nearly a decade by now, it would be more alarming if she hadn't taken the leave.

That left Alanis as the only commanding officer available to lead C Company, meaning that Emma and Emily were the only magical girls on standby. Tracy was apparently going to be assigned as further fire support within a week, but Emma and Emily might be asked to block an enemy attack or something in that interim.

Of the mundanes under the command, the ranks had been filled with militia replacements. Their equipment was outdated, their training adequate, but their experience minimal. It was a far cry from the disciplined and well equipped troops that Ingrid had been working with, a few… a few days ago.

Goddess, they were falling like… hell, flies had a longer lifespan than the soldiers on Samsara.

Emma swallowed back rising anxiety. It would be fine. Or, well, it would probably not, but it wasn't as if magic could raise the dead. Emma would probably not even get much time to interact with the soldiers that were technically under her command, since they'd probably be deployed on the surface while she stayed down here, so she shouldn't worry about it too much.

…Dammit, now she felt guilty. Because if she was on the surface, maybe she could help, but no that was stupid. It was a waste, a massive waste, of her powers to just throw them about willy nilly. And the infantry had an experienced officer to lead them up there anyway. It would be-

"Hey, guys?" asked Emma, quickly sitting upright on her bed. "You, uh, feel like a vid or something down at the theater?"

"Sure, I'll come," said Ayane immediately.

"It is pretty boring in here anyway," said Renee. "Have you seen that new vid about the Shizuki and the Kuroi?"

"Oh Goddess, is it one of those horrible sappy romances?" asked Emma, laughing. "Am I allowed to laugh if we see it?"

"Hey, I like those movies!" scolded Rebecca.

"Do you want to go over anything?" asked Varsha cautiously. "If you want, I can help."

"Nah, it's fine," said Emma, pushing cheer into her telepathy. "I uh, I'd rather not dwell too long on it, when I'm not on duty. Thanks though."

"Okay," said Varsha. "We'll meet you up top?"

"Sure," said Emma. She headed out of her room, Ayane and Renee leaving almost simultaneously. The three of them lingered before the elevator. "Uh, any particular reason you two will be slower?"

"Our hair's stuck," said Varsha with a sigh. "Knots, you know."

Emma glanced at Renee and Ayane, all three of them grinning. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"No, thank you," said Varsha flatly.

Stifled laughter. "Right. We'll see you up top."


	5. Lunch and a Show

The vid they ended up seeing was called _A Tale of Two Gardens_. It was set on a colony out on the fringe of human space, just before the Cephalopods had attacked. A classically structured tale, the vid featured two star crossed lovers fighting through family prejudices and forces aligned against them to find love and happiness in each other's arms in a Shakesperially rooted fantasy. As advertised, it featured the generally quiet and soft-spoken Kuroi Isamu, falling deeply in love with the fiery and talented Shizuki Mikoto. Unlike the great bard's tale, though, _A Tale of Two Gardens_ seemed destined for a happy ending.

Emma restrained a sigh as Rebecca sniffled two seats over. Ayane sat to her right, slowly munching through a bag of popcorn. Renee seemed to be so engrossed with the vid, she might actually be taking notes. Emma really hoped that wasn't the case, as she was fairly certain that this was not how romance worked in real life.

"You're going to do what?!" asked Sister Amelia of the Cult of Hope. "Are you mad?! The matriarchs will send people after you! You'll never be able to stop, never be able to rest. Running, for the rest of your lives. Is that what you want?"

"Yes," said Mikoto resolutely. She reached over and took Isamu's hand tenderly, looking once into his eyes before turning to face Sister Amelia again. "Yes it is. Will you help us?"

"Oh for the love of the Goddess," groaned Amelia, slumping into a chair and pressing her palms against her eyes. "Save me, My Lady, from young couples with little sense and too much time in bed."

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn't restrain a small smile as Mikoto thwapped Amelia upside the head and Isamu flushed bright red. She pulled her attention away from the vid, not difficult to do, honestly, and returned back to the composition she was writing.

It was a message to Abigail, the chaplain for the Cult of Hope for 12th Division. Emma hadn't really been sure about the Goddess, back when they'd first spoken before the drop. Now, with recent events fresh in her memory, Emma's opinion had changed. She planned to join the Cult. When, exactly, was still a bit up in the air, but Abigail was probably swamped and would have to get around to her later. Emma had a while to stew on it.

"Fine, look, I can get you on a freighter out to Mugadishou," said Amelia placatingly, dodging another of Mikoto's swats from some ribald joke Amelia had made. "You're on your own from there."

"We can work it out," said Isamu. "Thank you, Sister."

"Don't thank me yet," sighed Amelia. "Meet me at…"

Emma rested her head on her right hand, reading back over her message. The details had probably been seen by Abigail plenty of times, but Emma felt like it was one of those things that needed to be done properly. Still, she'd been writing for the last twenty minutes. Emma's final read through didn't catch anything particularly glaring. She went to send it, then paused.

Should she…?

Maybe until later, Emma decided. The others seemed engrossed in the vid, and Emma didn't want to disturb them. She sent the message without CCing the others. While she was in her mail app, Emma also sent a message to Agapita. She'd promised to contact her earlier, after all.

This message was substantially less complicated. "Calendar looks free, want to meet up somewhere?" Emma attached her rooming assignment to the bottom and hit send.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Shizuki Sayaka, standing only five and a half feet tall in the same form as when she'd contracted. Her body sparked with magic as Mikoto gulped but stared the Matriarch down.

"I'm leaving," said Mikoto, voice wobbling in fear as Sayaka crossed her arms.

"Is that so?" asked Sayaka. "And you'll be meeting that boy—," Sayaka spat the word like it was made of toxic sludge "—off somewhere? To 'make love', I presume?"

Emma doubted that Shizuki Sayaka actually spoke like that. Nor did she really think that something like this actually warranted the Matriarch's intervention. But the studio had decided to play up the drama, and apparently Sayaka-sama had seen the vid and approved.

Emma's interface blinked at her quietly. It was a response from Agapita. "Yo! I'm free for lunch, want to meet up?"

That was fast. Emma quickly responded: "Sure, will let friends know I have other plans."

"You can bring them if you want."

"A news dump about London Town? I doubt they'd be entertained."

"Hmmm, true. See you later then. :3"

Emma sighed and turned back to the vid.

"You're going to go no matter what I say, aren't you?" asked Sayaka, her "stare of the ages" not actually working, given that the actor, doused in CGI, was not several hundred years old.

"You'll have to kill me," said Mikoto. She gulped, but transformed with a ripple of color.

"You dare?"

"I do."

"…very well, you are free to go," said Sayaka. She sighed, and stepped to the side. "If there's one thing I've learned from these many years alive, it's that nothing can stand in the way of true love. Not even magic."

Emma stifled a gag. Goddess above, that was the cheesiest line yet. Shizuki Sayaka definitely did not talk like that.

"Here, it helps distract you," Ayane whispered telepathically. She held the bag of popcorn in front of Emma.

"Thanks," Emma replied. She reached in for a few kernels and crunched through them. "Oh hey, parmesan and garlic."

"Sorry, forgot to warn you."

"No, it's fine, I like parmesan and garlic," said Emma. She reached in for another handful. "Never liked super sweet things."

"Me neither," said Ayane. "Thoughts on the vid?"

"Way to cheesy," said Emma immediately. "How do people watch these things?"

"Healthy disregard for reality, I guess," said Ayane. She crunched into a mouthful of popcorn. "That line from Sayaka just now was awful."

"Ugh, yes," said Emma. "How did that magical girl noir thing go, earlier?"

"It was fine," said Ayane. "I slept through part of it, actually."

Emma swallowed a mouthful of popcorn half-chewed. That— what. "…Oh, okay," she said as casually as possible. "What'd you miss?"

"Not sure," said Ayane. She reached over to get more popcorn. "I was really confused when Chiaki— the main character — ended up shooting this one guy from the beginning of the vid."

"Did you ever figure it out?"

"Oh, well, as it turns out, he was the baddie's agent all along. Bit of a shock actually, he was quite the gentleman up till then."

"Huh," said Emma. Her imagination flitted, suddenly, to an image of her and Ayane cuddled together, Ayane raising an eyebrow at the vid as Emma snored into Ayane's shoulder. She remembered Ayane's warmth, the odd softness of her body, and—

—Emma whacked herself on the head.

"What are you doing?" asked Ayane.

"Nothing," said Emma. She shivered and ate a few more kernels of popcorn, then turned her attention back to the vid.

The two lovers were quietly making their way through the star port, going through back channels to avoid the security scanners. Sister Amelia licked her lips, then ushered the two of them through a door into the space elevator station.

"Blend in with the crowd and don't look out of place," said Amelia quietly. "You're on your own from here. If anyone asks, just say that you're on magical girl business. The hacks I installed will scramble the facial recognition software."

"Thanks," said Mikoto. She and Isamu gave Amelia a hug. "Thank you for everything."

"I'm pretty sure that hack doesn't exist," said Ayane.

"It might," said Emma with a shrug. "I mean, computing is just an infinite series of black boxes, you know?"

"Pfft," snorted Ayane. "You have no idea. Migration modeling software is such a pain to use."

"Yeah? What's it like?" asked Emma.

"Well it's generally pretty powerful," said Ayane, pulling up the application, called FlockPlot 2.2, to show Emma what it was like. "But someone decided to write a GUI."

Emma winced. Graphical user interfaces were often necessary for general user applications. For more technical work, even, a GUI often was extremely useful for understanding what your data was doing.

The difference between that and FlockPlot was that the latter's GUI was hard-coded, rather than designed and created by a graphical design specialist. Phoebusoft, for example, produced a geographical plotting application with an almost perfectly intuitive GUI. FlockPlot was… significantly less so.

"Yeah that's… pretty bad," said Emma. She nudged Ayane consolingly. "Can you even access the mental interface?"

"No, whoever wrote this didn't really use it," said Ayane, rolling her eyes. "I mean, the code is kind of fiddly, but it's really not that bad. All I have is a plug-in that lets me drop in some data, but if I change one parameter—," FlockPlot pinged and transitioned into a map of Japan, multiple data points scattered across it. Ayane's input immediately wiped them all out. "—Well look, see? I have to completely re-plot it. It's completely ridiculous, and I have to do at least fifty of these plots for each species!"

"Are there a lot of species in Osaka?"

"Emma, we get three hundred different types of bird, every year," said Ayane. "Half of those are migratory."

"Oh. That, that uh, that sounds fun."

"Well it is, sort of," said Ayane. "You get to see a lot of different birds, obviously, so if you like birds, it's a really great thing to see, especially if you get a breather. But when you're working…"

"It's a massive clusterfuck?"

Ayane sighed. "Yeah, basically. It's the middle of migration season, actually, so I got to test out my new powers a bit with the local fauna."

"How's that then?" asked Emma. "I thought your main power was flight?"

"It is, but uh, well," said Ayane, suddenly turning red and looking away. "I uh… I wished that I could just talk to the birds and figure out what was going on, so…"

Emma wasn't entirely sure how to respond to this.

"Uh, well, it's a good wish for your field."

"It was a stupid wish and I should have come up with a better one," said Ayane, frowning.

"Don't say that—."

"It's true though."

"Well, look, we can talk about it later, but this—," Emma mentally nodded at the vid and its finale moment. Rebecca was quietly hiccuping into Varsha's shoulder. Emma glanced over to see Varsha roll her eyes but pat Rebecca gently on the head. "This is probably not the best place."

"Yeah, sorry," said Ayane, sighing slightly and closing her program. "I'm not— well, my psychiatrist says I shouldn't be so down about my wish. She says all wishes are important."

Emma tread forward carefully. "I don't really know much about that sort of thing, but it sounds right to me."

Ayane looked over at her and smiled melancholically. "Thanks. I don't really believe it, but thanks."

"I— you're welcome," said Emma. She looked around. Varsha was still waiting for Rebecca to stop crying, probably telepathically cooing at the girl to cheer her up. Renee though…

Renee was giving her and Ayane an interested look.

"What's up?" asked Emma.

"Nothing," said Renee casually. She crossed a leg. "You have any plans for the rest of the day?"

"Mm, I don't," said Ayane. "Did you have an idea for something?"

"Really?" asked Renee, arching an eyebrow. "The way you two were engrossed in each other, I would have expected a date or something."

"Oh, no, nothing like tha— wait, what?" asked Ayane, flushing immediately. "R-Renee! What are you saying?"

"You make a good, if somewhat unexpected, couple," said Renee with maddening offhandedness. She got up and made her way to the door. "Do try and kiss once, before Emma goes back on the duty roster."

Emma and Ayane sat in stunned silence.

"Wait, hold on, Renee!" Ayane called, getting up and running after. "Renee, we are not dating!"

"You're not?" asked Varsha as she helped Rebecca up. "Wait, really?"

"No," said Emma, still in disbelief. "Where did you get that impression?"

"Are you kidding?" asked Varsha. "You were cuddling."

"Ayane had just been in the hospital!" protested Emma. "Everyone reacts to shitty situations differently. When it's like that, there's nothing romantic about— about cuddling."

"I guess," said Varsha thoughtfully. She rubbed Rebecca's head soothingly. "I mean, it's true that me and Rebecca aren't going to be making out in the next five seconds."

"S-says you," broke in Rebecca with a giggle.

"Stop it," said Varsha, tapping Rebecca on the head and leading the way out of the viewing booth.

"But seriously, me and Ayane are not getting together," said Emma.

"Yeah, whatever," said Varsha.

"I'm not even gay, it's not a thing."

"Uh huh," said Rebecca.

"I'm not going to, I dunno, throw her into bed and do things to her."

Varsha and Rebecca looked at each other.

"…Neither of us said anything about going to bed," said Rebecca. "Where'd you come up with that?"

"I'm just saying!" said Emma, waving her arms in distress. "I don't want a bunch of rumors about us!"

"You're really not helping your cause," said Varsha.

"Yeah? How would you know?"

"Because I'm dating the girl I was shipped with," said Varsha blithely, before turning and walking off with Rebecca.

Emma watched them go, jaw swinging loose in shock.

* * *

The view from the top of the chuen was surprisingly stunning. It wasn't what Emma would call a "large structure", especially compared to the endless depths you could fall if you jumped from the right building in Mitakihara. But it was quite large, nonetheless, and quite architecturally diverse. There was a large mix between architectural traditions across the ages, with Ancient Roman scattered amongst Ancient Chinese, and Ancient Chinese scattered amongst Ancient Roman. Colorful Russian Tzarist bulbs mingled with the sheer granite of Modernism, and, most interestingly of all, everything blended and merged into a multicolored riot that was often somewhat horrifying, but just as commonly stunningly beautiful.

It was easy to lose yourself in the sweeping lines and clean corners of the various buildings. It was certainly easier, lying there on your stomach on a roof near the cavern ceiling, than thinking about… things.

With a groan, Emma rolled over and stared up at the stone above her. Deep in the bedrock, there was a slight amount of groundwater leakage that was never really preventable. Water trickled downwards towards the sides, where gutters collected the water and ran it into the chuen's dedicated reservoir. No sense wasting the water, after all.

Dammit. What a mess. Actually, it wasn't even a mess yet, and Emma was already freaking out about it. Honestly, she was probably massively over thinking the issue. Renee had probably just been trolling, like she usually did.

Varsha and Rebecca made her pause though. Varsha was right, she and Rebecca had been the single most talked about couple, or potential couple, in training, and now they were together. What if Emma and Ayane were doing something similar? This was a terrible time and place to be starting any sort of relationship. Longstanding inevitabilities, like Rebecca and Varsha, were one thing, but this? This was horribly stupid. It was distracting, it could lead to unintentional gem burnout, and…

…And…

…Well the cold truth of the matter was that Ayane could be dead in two days. So could Emma. Combat duty was _combat_ duty. You were going onto the surface, where there were millions of ways to die ranging from a sniper shot to slipping off a building. There was no guarantee that the girl you'd just got in bed with would return. Hell, it was dangerous for Rebecca and Varsha to be together, and it was a wonder that the MHD hadn't finagled something to get them separated. If Varsha died, Rebecca would know immediately. She might end up dying right then and there. It was a terrible, terrible risk, falling for a magical girl when you, yourself, were one as well.

Emma wasn't sure she could handle that. She knew she couldn't stand the idea of any of her friends dying, and didn't think about it much because of that. She knew that she felt a lot of responsibility, and that there were people counting on her to lead them well. She was responsible for enough deaths, in the past or in the future.

Emma didn't want Ayane's death on her hands as well.

Emma's TacComp pinged. It was time for her appointment with Agapita.

* * *

Hanegawa's Ramen Bar was a small storefront on the east side of the chuen. Tucked in a corner and relatively inconspicuous, it was run by Harold Hanegawa. True to its name, it was both a restaurant and a bar, serving both alcohol in abundance and hand made, custom to order, positively massive bowls of ramen.

"So, you been here before?" asked Emma telepathically. She sat on a high barstool before the main counter. The clank of ladles on stockpots and rapid thwacking of knives on cutting boards drowned out all attempts at verbal communication.

"Not really," said Agapita, pursing her lips as she scrolled through the implant-projected menu. Fragrant steam, heavy with the smell of slow-simmered meat and vegetables, wafted over the counter. "Mmm… smells good though."

"What do you think about the barbecue pork?" asked Emma. She glanced through the ingredients list. "Looks like it's Japanese barbecue they use, so can't be bad?"

"No, I don't think so, maybe try—?"

"Hello ladies!" shouted a cook. He swung a towel onto his shoulder and smiled dazzlingly at them. "Welcome to Hanegawa's! This your first time here?"

"Yes!" Emma shouted back.

"Great, welcome welcome!" replied the cook. "A bit of an intro then, here's how it works. Ramen at Hanegawa's comes either in prepped-bowls or A-la-Carte. Prepped-bowls are prepped-bowls, they're what they say on the label. You can add stuff from the A-la-Carte list if you like. Straight A-la-Carte starts with a choice of three different broths, then your meat, then your veggies. We cook the meat and veggies to order and combine everything together for your meal."

"What's a good prepped bowl then?" asked Agapita.

"Well, since you're both magical girls, I'd recommend our Mage's Special," suggested the cook. He gestured over the counter and popped up a graphics. "It's fairly simple, but a big hit with all the mages we get. We start by marinating steak in rice vinegar, Asian pear extract, and brown sugar, then sear it and slice it into strips. The broth we use is the Three Bone House, and the bowl comes with blanched carrot matchsticks and Asiatic broccoli. The garnish is finely sliced red onions and a scoop of butter. Sound good?"

Agapita and Emma glanced at each other.

"Brilliant," said Agapita. "We'll take one each."

"Fantastic, house beer sound good for drinks? I'd recommend it for this bowl."

"Yeah, house beer sounds good," said Agapita. "You okay with house beer, Emma?"

Emma shrugged. "I don't have much experience with this sort of thing, so whatever is fine for me."

"Excellent, here are your beers," said the cook. He placed two bottles in front of them with a clunk, the glass misting immediately in the humid atmosphere. "Enjoy your beers, ladies, your food will be up shortly." He turned and bellowed down the line: "TWO MAGE'S SPECIALS FOR THE COUNTER."

"Goddess, this is a bar?" asked Emma as a returning bellow echoed up the line. She twisted the cap off the top of her beer with an incredulous shake of her head. "That was better service than I've had anywhere on Earth. Sounds like better food too."

"Well you know, Hanegawa-sensei's got two Starline Stripes," said Agapita.

"Starline Stripes? What are those?"

"Oh, they're ratings given out by the Starline Association," said Agapita. "For people who go on holiday, to give them an idea where to eat and where to stay. Harold Hanegawa's gotten two stripes out of three for his restaurant in Downtown Helsinberg."

"Huh. I've never heard of the Starline Association."

"Really? They've got an office in London," said Agapita. "Although I guess it's part of that update I said I'd be giving you."

"Yeah? What else is new then?"

"Well, when were you in London last?"

The conversation was fairly long. Emma listened closely as Agapita described all the changes that had happened in the last two years, accompanied by an animation that updated itself based on what Agapita was talking about. It was startling how much had changed. The old Shizuki Business Complex had been remodeled. It was now an official MSY Finance center, with many of the businesses slowly being integrated into the MSY where applicable. Hashimoto and Sinclair Investments and Securities was apparently doing very well under the guidance of Emma's parents and Ami Hashimoto. The latter was even getting married, or so the rumors said.

"Ami's not that much older than me, is she?" asked Emma as she chewed through a strip of almost-totally-raw steak. It was absolutely fantastic.

"No, well, she's twenty," said Agapita. "So six years older than you, I think."

"But still, that's a bit young, isn't it?"

"Nah, matriarchies do it all the time," said Agapita. She waved her chopsticks dismissively. "It's not like you're expected to pump out babies as soon as you get married. This isn't the 1100s."

"I… guess. You think it was political then?"

"Oh, probably," said Agapita with a nod. "She's married to, hm, Shizuki Ryouichi. He's from around here, actually. There's a Shizuki family that's in charge of the local branch office for HSIS. His mum's name is Shizuki Hinata, dad's called Shizuki Akio, he married in though, and he's got a little brother named Shizuki Ryouta."

"How alliterative," remarked Emma.

"Quite."

"How do you know them?"

"Well, the Burnside-Sinclair family has a long relationship with the Shizuki Matriarchy," said Agapita. She pulled up a diagram in a shareview. "You see, our ancestor, Maria, was sort of adopted by the Shizukis way back before the Unification Wars. The Burnside-Sinclairs ended up building their own matriarchy for awhile, until, uh, ideological differences kind of made us implode." Agapita sighed. "We lost a lot of people. Good people. The family scattered. Some joined up with the FA, but a lot of us apparently ended up just keeping their heads down, staying away from magic and the like. The Shizukis stuck with us throughout, and we owe Sayaka-sama a lot. When I deployed here, Laure, our current matriarch, forwarded a contact list, in case I needed any help. Not that I needed it, since, you know, MagOps, but it was nice of her anyway. She tries to keep tabs on us, to keep us from getting lost like the others."

"That sounds very sad," said Emma. She pushed a piece of meat around on her bowl. "I uh… I'm sorry for your family."

"Ah, whatever," said Agapita, cheering up a bit. "Let's not worry about it. It's not like I was there, I'm only fifty-three."

Emma choked on a noodle. "Goddess, I keep forgetting," she muttered, coughing out the stray pasta. "You're old."

"Hey, you're only as old as you want to be!" said Agapita with a grin. "Us magical girls, we can be fifteen the rest of our lives!"

"Yeah yeah," said Emma, rolling her eyes.

"But actually, on that note," said Agapita. She tapped her chopsticks apprehensively against her bowl. "I did want to ask. Your last name's interesting, do you think I could get a DNA test done?"

"What do you mean?" asked Emma, slurping up more noodles. "You're not seriously suggesting I'm part of one of those lost families from the Unification Wars?"

"I mean, you could be," said Agapita seriously. "Having a family to count on is a big deal."

"What for?"

"Matriarchal politics, for one thing, so we want all the family we can get. But I also have way too few cousins who are also magical girls, and I'd really like another."

"…That's… a little creepy," said Emma, leaning away from the other girl.

"Oh pleeeeeeeeeeease?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Ugh, fine, just don't get your hopes up. Sinclair's not exactly a rare last name. What do you need me to do?"

"Sure, sure, just hold on a sec," said Agapita with a grin. She hurriedly searched her pockets, before flipping out a hypo. "Gimme your arm."

Cautiously, Emma held out her arm. Agapita grabbed hold of Emma's wrist and pushed her sleeve up.

"This won't hurt a bit."

A stab.

"Ow!" yelped Emma, snatching her arm back. "You said that wouldn't hurt!"

"I lied," said Agapita blithely, tucking the hypo back into her pocket with a giggle. "That'll get processed eventually. Back to London then."

Emma gave Agapita a wary look as the other chattered on, before turning back to her ramen. The MagOps operative was clearly insane.

Hopefully, Emma wouldn't end up like that.


	6. Reading With Friends

Lunch finished with little fanfare. Agapita had a team meeting to get to, so she left soon after they paid their tab.

"I'll call you up when the results come back," said Agapita. "I mean, it's really not that difficult a thing to do, but the hypo does some other stuff as well."

"I knew you jabbed me with it for kicks," groused Emma. It hadn't hurt her, but really. "Ass."

"Bah, you'll be fine," said Agapita. She whacked Emma on the back as she left, making Emma stumble and cough. "You're tougher than most greenies. See you around Emma."

Emma shook her head as Agapita disappeared into the crowd. The older girl was totally insane. She then turned her attention to her inbox, which had gotten several notes over the course of the conversation.

One was from Abigail, the chaplain. She was extremely excited to hear about Emma's conversion and wanted to meet as soon as possible to discuss it in more detail. The note was a little vague on the details, as Abigail had several meetings to get to and didn't have all that much time left to write. All in all, the note made Emma smile and feel better about her decision. An appointment came attached to Abigail's note, asking Emma to go down to the chapel at 1630.

The second was from Jessica, telling her to come by tomorrow morning for her interview. Emma frowned at this in distaste, but sighed and moved on.

The last note was from Ayane and Renee, about how they were at the library and she should come visit. It was just turning 1300 now, which gave Emma about three hours until she had to be at the chapel. She sent a reply to Ayane and Renee, telling them she'd be there shortly. Libraries were a historical curiosity, the last Emma had heard, so—

"Emma Sinclair! Hello!"

Emma winced as her train of thought was forcibly snapped in half by Senbey's piercing telepathy. A second later, something white and fluffy smacked her in the face.

"Oi!"

"Sorry, sorry," said Senbey hurriedly, grasping onto the front of Emma's hoodie and scurrying onto her shoulder. "Miscalculated again. How are you?"

"Well I was doing alright," began Emma. "But—."

"That's great! I've been following you since the suburbs—!"

"—then you hit me in the face and what do you mean 'following'?"

"Oh, you remember that I told you the Incubators wanted to observe your person, yes?" asked Senbey, tilting its head. "The data I gathered was incredibly interesting! I was not aware that humans could cuddle when they were not engaging in sexual interco—!"

"Oi, shut up!" said Emma, snatching at Senbey and flushing utterly red. The Incubator vanished with a puff of smoke. Various odd looks were sent Emma's direction as she twisted on the spot, both at her rather random motion and at the appearance of an Incubator on her shoulder.

"What? It's just an observation," said Senbey. It reappeared a few inches above the ground, and managed to land in a semi-coherent manner this time. "While it is true that there are several gaps in my knowledge, since I have spent most of my career working on entropic reactions, it really is a fascinating practice. Did you know that in Qing Dynasty China, same-sex consorts of the royal children were commonplace? It's true! The—."

Emma finally managed to grab Senbey and shook the Incubator to get it to stop.

"Right, listen here," she said, forcing herself to ignore the odd looks around her. "You are going to shut up, right now, about anything regarding sex. Do you understand me?"

"Oh fine, but it's really a very interesting topic," said Senbey cheerily. "What other things would you be amenable to discussing?"

Emma gave Senbey a narrow-eyed look for a moment, before letting it drop to the ground. She started walking towards the library silently, with Senbey trailing behind. A question soon came to mind. "Actually, you never really explained, why are the Incubators interested in me?" she asked, "I'm not exactly special."

"No, you're not," acknowledged Senbey. "In most respects, you are quite average."

"Most?"

"Your social skills are slightly below average," said Senbey. "Specifically, you have a tendency to be extremely irritating to authority figures."

Emma paused to give Senbey a very flat look. "Thanks. Great for my self esteem, that."

"You are very welcome!" said Senbey, it's voice breaking into a squeak at the end. "Self esteem has been statistically shown to have negative effects on group cooperation, did you know? Overly proud humans have a tendency to—."

"Ahem. Back on topic?"

"Oh, right," said Senbey. "In any case, your general averageness does not imply any strong indicators for delaying death, and statistical analysis indicates that you most likely would have died in the scenario prior to your rescue. As I said earlier, this implies a certain unusual gem resilience to grief, which has many potential implications for magical girl design and soul gem engineering. The data you provide could help millions of magical girls in the future be less susceptible to gem corruption!"

Emma stopped in the hallway and looked down at Senbey. "Did you just say 'magical girl design'?"

"Yes!"

"What exactly do you mean?"

"Didn't you know?" asked Senbey, cocking its head. "Human physiology is not capable of channeling magic or performing the feats that magical girls are capable of. Part of the process requires us to reimplement your physical body and replace it with one that is compatible with magic! Of course, the same is true with your soul, which we condense into crystalline form. It's all very complex, but I thought everyone knew, even if your government keeps it secret for some reason."

Emma began to feel slightly ill. "You're saying that the original me doesn't exist?"

"Of course not!" said Senbey, cocking its head the other way. "There was no 'original you' in the first place! Physical forms are transitory and change constantly! The only thing that's originally 'you' is your soul, and you have that in your gem already."

Emma screwed up her face as she tried to understand what the Incubator was trying to say. "So… so you're… you're basically saying that Incubators view the physical as a sort of passing thing that doesn't really matter?"

"That's not entirely true either," said Senbey patiently. "The physical universe is something that all matter based consciousnesses must interact with. The form chosen by the First Surveyors was specifically based off of observed human psychology, for example. We do not ignore the physical universe, but rather seek to transcend it. Is this not also what humans do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Historically, humanity has often turned to recreational chemical agents to seek an altered state of consciousness," said Senbey. "And when that became dangerous and-or unnecessary, humanity started augmenting itself. You have no serious issue consisting, on average, of about 15% artificial constructs. Consider, however, that your ancestors in the 18th Century would have considered you an abomination to be exterminated within the fiery inferno of a primitive blast furnace! Human soldiers transcend the physical limits of the human design regularly. Incubators do the same thing with magical girls. We simply are better at it."

Emma considered this.

"I… guess…?" she said eventually. "In… in general, you're saying that you, uh, you basically just super-implanted me?"

"Well, I didn't personally, but yes, that is a sufficient, very low level summary of what occurred when you contracted," said Senbey with a cheerful nod. "The reality involves complex metaphysics and requires a deeper understanding of the warped non-continuous antispace."

Emma squinted at Senbey, unsure if she was supposed to be complimented or insulted by Senbey's evaluation of her conclusions.

"Well whatever," said Emma. "I'm going to meet up with some friends."

"May I come with?" asked Senbey. It leaped up and perched upon her shoulder again.

"You have to promise to stop being so squeaky," said Emma. "And not to comment on things awkwardly."

"Does this sound better?" asked Senbey. Emma flinched. Senbey's voice suddenly resonated in a deep, round bass that echoed in her mind.

"Uh, no," said Emma. "Just, stop being so hyper."

"Oh, I think I understand," said Senbey. It made an effort to speak more slowly and at a slightly lower pitch. "Like this?"

With a cautious nod, Emma set off for the library.

* * *

The library had a very unassuming, but very unusual door. Somehow, it was easily looked over, the geometric shapes on its face making it fade into the wall. Yet, it was clearly manufactured to imitate an oak-paneled door, impossible to miss normally given the sheer lack of wood in the redoubt. Emma walked right past it while looking for the room, before doubling back.

"How did I miss that?" Emma wondered, tapping the door experimentally. It creaked open slightly, a ripple of light seeping past the crack.

"Are all human rooms this theatrical?" asked Senbey.

"No, this one is just weird," said Emma. She pushed the door fully open and stepped through into a bright, spherical room, with a Persian rug laid out in front of a desk. A single round window was behind it, illuminating, with simulated sunlight, the wood-paneled room and a set of wrought iron spiraling stairs off to the left A thin, bespectacled female figure sat behind the desk, writing something down with what looked like an ornate stylus. She looked up as Emma walked in.

"Good afternoon," said the figure. "Welcome to the Helsinberg Redoubt Public Library. I am the Librarian VI for this installation. How can I help you today?"

"Uh, I'm looking for Ayane Nakamura and Renee Bellanger?" asked Emma, somewhat taken aback by the intricate attention to detail in the atrium.

"Oh yes, the two magical girls," said the Librarian. "You'll want to climb to the next floor."

"Thanks," said Emma, nodding, before making her way up the stairs. Her steps clanked as she went up. The door was oak-paneled, just like the door to the atrium. Emma knocked twice.

"Come in!" called Ayane.

Emma peered in through the door, Senbey peeking in with her.

"Whoa," said Emma. She looked up, and then kept looking. Bookshelves reached all the way to infinity, while a set of four cushy, overstuffed arm chairs sat about a coffee table. A wide, round window looked out over the chuen, although Emma suspected it was a simulated projection.

"Cool, isn't it?" asked Ayane. She was lying across one of the arm chairs, curled up at an improbable angle. She gestured at the ceiling. "It's an optical illusion, of course, but the spherical room makes it difficult to remember that. It makes my arms itch."

"I still do not see why you are so enthused by this," said Renee blandly. She was seated in a much more ordinary fashion, legs crossed on top of the coffee table.

"It looks cool," said Emma. She kept looking as she stepped further into the room. "You wouldn't get it, being in concert halls all the time."

"Yeah, big rooms that keep going up aren't a thing in Japan," said Ayane. "At least, not for people like us."

"Then clearly you are insufficiently cultured," said Renee, shaking her head with a sigh. "I must take you two to the opera one day. It will be an experience."

"We could VR it," said Emma, still looking up.

"Bah, it is a pale imitation," said Renee. "You would not understand, you do not dance."

"Well if it helps, I have been in Stadium One in London," said Emma, looking down finally. "It's a pretty huge place. Being inside is an experience, that's for sure."

"Yes exactly," said Renee, snapping her fingers. "There is something intangible that the sim cannot capture."

"Improbable romanticism aside," said Ayane, rolling her eyes at the two of them. "Stay awhile, Emma. Read with us, it's kind of fun."

"What, does the place have actual books?" asked Emma.

"No, it's some sort of live VR sim," said Ayane. "All you have to do is ask for a particular book, and the library will simulate it in your hands."

"Okay, so…" said Emma. She held out her hands and thought for a moment. "Uhh… how about A Study in Scarlet?"

The tome materialized in a flicker of light and words, dropping heavily into Emma's hands.

"Holy crap," said Emma. She ran her hand over the cover. It certainly felt real enough. "That's really cool. What happens if I squeeze it too hard?"

"Nothing interesting, unfortunately for you," said Renee. "It just vanishes."

"Really? That's too bad."

"I do not see anything," interjected Senbey. The group jumped. They had forgotten the Incubator was there.

"Ah, sorry, I should introduce you guys," said Emma. "Senbey, this is Ayane and Renee. Guys, this is Senbey, the Incubator who has decided I am the science experiment of the month."

"Hello!" chirped Senbey.

"Hello!" greeted Ayane. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you for asking!" said Senbey enthusiastically. It immediately jumped off of Emma to land on Ayane's chest, purring and rubbing itself against her chin. Ayane yelped and giggled as she scratched Senbey behind the ears.

"So what is this about Emma being a science experiment?" asked Renee.

"It says that I'm apparently weirdly resilient to gem corruption," said Emma, folding her arms as she watched Senbey and Ayane play. "I'm under observation to see what happens, I guess. Not, apparently, that Senbey's taking it all very seriously."

"On the contrary, studies show that bonding through cuddling is extremely effective at facilitating good data collection!" said Senbey, popping immediately into sitting position. "Of course, there are other benefits too, such as temporary increased resistance to gem corruption. An excellent example, again, is the time you and Ayane—!"

Senbey broke off, cocking its head to one side as Renee began to giggle.

"Is something the matter?" it asked.

"E-Emma and Ayane," managed Renee. "Goddess, I knew I wasn't the only one."

"S-shut up!" said Ayane. She rapidly turned red as Renee's meaning became clear. "I told you already, it's not like that!"

"Maybe we should leave you alone for awhile to find out," said Renee, still fighting through giggles. "Do you think it would be a good experiment, Senbey?"

"Undoubtedly!" said Senbey enthusiastically. "I can set up the measuring equipment—!"

Ayane threw Senbey across the room at Renee's head, who caught the flailing Incubator and laughed at Emma and Ayane's distress.

"I am sorry, you two," said Renee eventually, with a mirthful sigh. "It is simply too easy."

Ayane sank deeper into her armchair and hid behind her book about eagles. "Meanie…"

"Anyway," said Emma primly. "Have you two been up here ever since the vid?"

"Yeah, it's been fun," said Ayane, sitting up again to look at Emma properly as she spoke. "Well, it has for me. I haven't been paying attention to Renee."

"I have been doing ballet sims," said Renee. "I found an interesting book and wanted to try some of the routines it outlined. They are very complex, but I am making progress."

"That's good," said Emma. "Maybe you can show us some time?"

"Perhaps, but I am not certain," said Renee with a shrug. "They are very complex, as I said."

Emma nodded. "What about you, Ayane? What are you reading?"

"I've found this interesting book about eagles," said Ayane, holding up the very large tome. "It's the collected works of this guy Shen Bergmann, and I've found this fascinating section about the feeding habits of this one population in Spain. Do you want to see? It's really very interesting."

Emma was dubious. "Ehh, maybe later."

"Well go on, have a seat," said Ayane. "Do you like Sherlock Holmes?"

"It's not bad," said Emma as she sat down in one of the armchairs. Wow. That was very comfy. "It was the first thing I thought of. I guess, for a long spaceflight, it'd be a good choice to bring with."

"Is A Study in Scarlet your favorite?" asked Ayane. Renee went back to her sims, realizing that the conversation was going to continue to be uninteresting.

Emma nodded. "Though, to be fair, it's been awhile since I last read it, but I remember enjoying it more than the others at least."

"That's cool. I preferred The Adventure of the Speckled Band," said Ayane. "It's my favorite, especially about how the guy has a cheetah."

"I suppose," said Emma. "I don't remember it very well though."

The two of them turned to the books they held. It really had been awhile since Emma'd read any Sherlock Holmes. It was engaging at first, but she quickly remembered why she didn't find it that compelling. She could never get used to the Victorian syntax, and it made for rather dull reading in her opinion. Her thoughts soon drifted.

She wound up thinking about the appointment she had with Abigail in a few hours. Well, two and a bit, by now. It was a big step. She'd felt completely sure about it in the field. Hell, she had been completely sure about it when she'd sent Abigail that message. But actually having the appointment on her calendar had triggered a strange nervousness.

Or more accurately, she was suddenly starting to have second thoughts about this. It wasn't that she suddenly had doubts about her beliefs. That bit right after getting out of the IFV was potentially born out of being extraordinarily high on neurotransmitters, but the dream, or vision, or whatever the hell it was, formed quite a good counterpoint.

No the problem was, Emma was just now realizing that she'd never gotten around to telling anyone about her decision. There was a big difference between briefly considering CCing people in a message and realizing that, wow, this was a very important moment but most people were actually quite secular. There was no guarantee in any way that anyone would understand or accept Emma's decision.

But, that had to be irrational on her part. A pretty basic part of primary and middle school ethics class had been discussing accepting other people for who they were. Granted, it had most recently been framed in the context of gender and sexuality, but really, the principals still applied here, right? It wasn't like there was an entire unit about ideological conflicts back in civics that generally implied that religion was not a great thing, really. And there were lots of magical girls in the Cult, so… so….

Emma suddenly felt very, very small and alone. She hadn't ever considered this. What was going to happen? Should she keep it a secret and never tell anyone, ever? Should she try and downplay it? Maybe… maybe she should cancel her appointment with Abigail…

"Emma?" asked Ayane. "You okay over there?"

"Ah-wha?" asked Emma, blinking. "Yeah, what's up?"

"You've kinda been staring at that page for the last few minutes," said Ayane, eyebrow raised.

Emma licked her lips nervously. "Oh, uh, right. I was just… thinking."

"About what?"

"Um… stuff?"

Ayane raised her eyebrow higher. "How vague."

"Honestly though, it wasn't anything that interesting," said Emma hurriedly. "Just… just stuff."

"Well, now I'm curious," said Ayane, setting her book aside. She shifted to lean against the arm of her chair. "Come on, tell me! I promise I won't laugh if it's embarrassing."

Emma shifted nervously. "Well, I mean, it uh, it was uh…."

Ayane tilted her head curiously, then blinked and slowly began blushing. "You… you weren't thinking about… about us?"

"No, nothing like that," said Emma hurriedly and waving her hands. "No, it was… it was something else. Something more, uh, well, not more important, but…"

Awkward silence descended. Emma shuffled her feet nervously, refusing to meet Ayane's eyes. She glanced left, at the book case behind Ayane, and fiddled with the hem of her hoodie. Ayane waved a hand in the space with a pout, making Emma quickly look the other direction. Now Ayane just stared at her, growing steadily more peeved. Seriously?

The silence wasn't broken until Renee came out of her sim and replayed the recent conversation.

"Ugh, what could possibly be so difficult to talk about?" asked Renee. "Just spit it out already. We are all friends here. Unless you are about to confess your undying love in which case-."

Ayane threw her book at Renee. The simulated object passed through Senbey, who vanished with a small squeak, and de-rezzed just before hitting Renee in the face.

"Annoying as Renee is," said Ayane, scowling. "She's right. We're all friends here."

"I… I'm…," Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've decided to join the Cult of Hope."

A moment of utter silence.

"Why?" asked Renee, arching an eyebrow. "It is an unusual thing to do."

"I… I had a… a vision, I think," said Emma.

"You think," said Renee. "I… see."

"You don't believe me?"

"It is not as if visions are commonplace," said Renee. "Usually, it is a result of implant malfunction. You probably hit your head very hard at some point."

"Well I did but that's not the point-."

"So as I said. It's probably worth a second trip to medical," said Renee. "But the Cult of Hope is very relaxed about these things, I suppose, so it could be worse. Good luck and have fun, I guess."

"I will, thanks," said Emma, sarcastically. Renee was really, really annoying sometimes. She turned to Ayane. "Ayane? What do you think?"

"Well…" said Ayane slowly, staring at the top of the armrest. "I… do think it's a little weird, and I'd like to know more about this vision, but... since it's you, I will support your decision."

"What do you mean 'since it's me'?"

"I know you well enough that it's probably something you thought about and is important," said Ayane. "So, even though I don't agree, I'll support you."

"Well I don't know about 'thought about'," admitted Emma. "I… it's not like I sat down and thought out all of the implications about this."

"But you didn't just decide to do it for kicks, right?" asked Ayane.

"No, of course not—."

"Then that's good enough for me," said Ayane with a nod.

There was a brief pause.

"Well, I am going to go get a drink," said Renee, standing up and stretching. "There is a cafe nearby that seemed interesting. Anyone coming with?"

"I'd like to read some more, thanks," said Ayane.

"Same here," said Emma.

Renee glanced between the two of them. "...Well alright then. I will see you two at a later time. Au revoir."

She exited quietly, still giving them an odd look.

Emma flipped the pages of her book restlessly. Really, she wasn't wanting to read very badly, but Renee was… Renee, sometimes. She was honestly a great friend, someone you could depend on, but Emma needed some time away.

"So, for this… thing, with the Cult," said Ayane. She was still leaning on the arm of her chair. "Do you need to do anything for it?"

"Uh, well, I'm not sure actually," said Emma. "I'm supposed to meet with Abigail, the chaplain, in a few hours."

"Oh, I remember her," said Ayane. "She's very nice."

"Yeah. Did she tell you about her friend?"

"She did. I… I can't help but think that it was a hallucination."

Emma licked her lips. "Well, I mean, it seems really specific for a hallucination."

"But she was dying," said Ayane. "You've died in the sims before, it's not a time where you're clear minded."

"Still, it's really, really specific," said Emma. "I mean, that's a really odd sort of specificity, you know?"

"Emma," said Ayane patiently. "It's not— this doesn't make sense. Think about it."

"I am!" said Emma. "It's— ow!"

Emma grimaced as she waited for her bit tongue to stop hurting.

"Listen to us," said Ayane, shaking her head. "Look, forget I said anything. I said I'd support you, so I won't question your faith like this. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," said Emma quietly.

"I… I'd still like to hear about your, uh, your vision," said Ayane. "If… if you'll tell me?"

"Later," said Emma. "I… I don't really feel like it right now."

"Oh. Okay."

Emma turned the simubook over in her hands, looking at it pensively. That could have gone worse. At least… at least they hadn't really minded. But they hadn't understood. Not at all. It hadn't been expected, no, but Emma had hoped that they might have some idea, after everything she'd gone through, about why she found it so compelling.

Emma took a deep breath and sighed. Well on the bright side, now that Emma had done it once, telling Varsha and Rebecca didn't seem all that bad. The meeting with Abigail would be whatever it would be. There wasn't much chance of it going badly.

Things would be alright.


	7. Partaking of the Fruit

Emma lingered on the rapid transit landing before the Cult of Hope's chapel in the redoubt. The walls were still colored pastel lime green. It clashed rather hilariously with the aesthetic of the door before her.

It was a round, white disk of a portal. In the center was a stylized soul gem. Rippling lines branched out to five diamonds, arranged in an inverted starburst about the gem. The door was recessed slightly into the wall, with part of the bottom cut off to make a better pathway. On the bottom right, a pinwheel of intersecting polymer rings was embedded into a second disk.

This was it. This door, that Emma had been staring at for nearly a minute now, was the last thing that separated her from the second most important decision in her life. She still had a chance to walk away. It was… acceptable to believe in a supernatural higher being and not be religious.

But that seemed cheap, to Emma. Sort of a cop out. If you believed in something, you should pursue it with everything you had, right? Or at least, that's how it was for her. It didn't sit right with her, the idea of pulling a cop out like that.

Emma sighed. She still hadn't told Anna. She should probably do so, before going through. But Anna would understand, she was Anna. It was impossible that she wouldn't. Telling her now or later wouldn't change that.

Steeling herself, Emma stepped forward. The pinwheel lit up, glowing blue, before the door rotated itself about the pinwheel to fold away into the wall. A moment later, the pinwheel retracted into the floor.

The room beyond was a small atrium, dimly lit with sconced lamps. The walls were the impossibly dark blackness of deep space, with a cascade of stars falling across them like dust swirling across a desert plain. Each sconce was a small sun, the stars swirling around them in gravitational patterns that pulled and ejected them in an ever perpetuated loop.

With a quiet clunk, the door closed behind Emma. The oval of light on the floor disappeared, and Emma instinctively breathed in sharply. Without the grounding of that oval of light, it looked, and almost felt, like she was suspended in space.

Another door opened in front of Emma. A figure stood in front of it, a shawl smoothing out the shoulders and torso. Bright light glared out from behind.

"Emma, welcome," said Abigail. She stepped back into the light, letting the lamps overhead shine onto her face. "Sorry for the theatrics. We have a lot of artists who contributed to chapel design."

"It's fine," said Emma, moving quickly out of the somewhat unnerving atrium. The brightly lit main worship hall expanded before her, arrayed to focus upon the altar placed in the center. A vague, ephemeral figure stood atop it, carved out of white marble with small mementos scattered about its base. A basket of apples held the place of honor, before the statue's feet. Steps led down the center towards the figure, with long aisles of dark polywood pews stretching beside.

"Is that Her?" asked Emma, looking down the steps at the marble sculpture.

"It's the best we can accomplish," said Abigail. "The Goddess is mysterious. She stays out of sight of those who would portray her, and many girls who received visions see her but cannot remember, or are told not to speak of her appearance."

"Do a lot of girls have visions?" asked Emma.

"Some," said Abigail. She led the way down the steps. Her costume's heavy boots clunked as she walked, but somehow the sound did not seem disrespectful. "Most don't though."

"Oh," said Emma. "How do you get a vision?"

"You have to visit the Ribbon," said Abigail. "Most of us, at least. Homura was different, of course."

"Homura's the prophet, right?" asked Emma.

"That's right," said Abigail. She paused in front of the altar. "Have you learned anything about the Cult since we last talked?"

"No, this is actually a bit of snap decision," said Emma, blushing as she looked away. "But, you know, you hear things from others during training. Nothing concrete though, and lots of contradictions."

"I see," said Abigail. She reached forward and took Emma by the hand. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. The Goddess cares about everyone, even if they don't really know what they're getting into. Goddess knows I didn't when I joined."

Emma bit her lip, but nodded. "Thanks. It's just, I just told my friends, from Earth, and they didn't really get it, and I still have to tell the others, and I keep thinking that maybe I should have waited longer."

"I'm not going to push you into this, Emma," said Abigail. "It's a big decision. If you need more time, then you need more time. We can just have a cup of coffee and talk if you want."

A long moment passed while Emma tried to gather her nerve. She failed.

"I… I'd like that, actually," said Emma. She gulped. "I…"

"Shh, don't worry about it," said Abigail with a smile. She pulled Emma towards a side door, letting go of Emma's hands once she started to follow. "Come on, I snuck some specialty coffee beans in with my stuff. Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Uh, alright?" said Emma. "Why would anyone care?"

"Oh, it's not that I think I'll get into trouble," said Abigail. "It's just that anyone who's been in the 12th for awhile knows that I get really good coffee." She opened the door. "Come in, this is my office."

The interior was decorated much like the worship hall. Brightly lit, with dark polywood for furniture and accents. Emma took a seat in front of Abigail's desk, while the chaplain went about grinding the coffee beans, pulling the equipment from a hideaway disguised as a standing set of drawers.

"That smells really good," said Emma, leaning forward as Abigail opened the container of beans.

"Thanks," said Abigail, grinning as she scooped the beans into the grinder. "Specialty stuff I got from our last station. Gene-modded coffee beans can grow in a lotta places, but the closer the conditions are to Earth, the better."

"I see," said Emma. She licked her lips and folded her hands. Dammit, this shouldn't be so difficult to do. She could lead football teams when she was twelve, for the Goddess's sake! This was nothing compared to that.

"I don't mean to pry, but how have things been?" asked Abigail.

"It's been… tough," said Emma. She looked down at the top of the desk, tracing a pattern on top with a finger. "I nearly died."

"Really? Are you alright?" asked Abigail, pausing as she poured hot water into a flask that the grounds had been poured into.

"Yeah, the MHD checked me out," said Emma, waving a hand. "Jessica, the psychiatrist who evaluated me, said I should be fine."

"Well that's good," said Abigail. "Do you… want to talk about it?"

"I… I guess should," said Emma. She kept tracing loops and circles on the table. "It was… it was pretty bad, actually. I was retreating in an IFV, but it got hit by an AT missile or something. The vehicle flipped and I remember seeing the bulkhead fly towards me. Everything was quiet when I woke up and crawled out of the wreckage. I…"

Emma fell silent. Abigail placed a mug of coffee in front of her.

"Thanks," said Emma. She took a sip of the coffee, then smiled. "It's good."

"Spared no expense," said Abigail quietly. "What happened next?"

"I… well, I decided to join the Cult then," said Emma. She watched the steam wafting out of her mug. "I'm not sure it was a rational decision, honestly. I was probably pretty high on neurotransmitters."

"Did you reason it out?"

"I did. I remember thinking that there was no chance I'd have survived the wreck. The squid should have just shot the IFV again, to make sure I was dead. But they forgot or something, and I decided that this had to be the work of the Goddess, since there's no way that something else didn't intervene to save my life."

"Why don't you think that's rational?"

"Well, there's lots of things that could have distracted them," said Emma. She took another sip. "The rest of the forces that were being encircled could have hit the line, or maybe another MG squad attacked. I dunno."

"Perhaps," said Abigail. "Believe what you will about it, I guess. My interpretation of the Goddess is that she doesn't sit idly by, and that she intervenes whenever she can. There's a lot of people who disagree with me, but for what it's worth, I'd believe the Goddess saved you."

"I guess," said Emma. She blew on the top of her mug, watching the steam blast away, then slowly return to its original patterns. "Well I kept walking, you know. I remember feeling really happy. Then I… Then I found the position my platoon had been holding, at the time. They'd… they'd all died."

Abigail winced and took Emma's hand again. "That must have been difficult. I'm sorry."

"Thanks," said Emma. She glanced up at Abigail. "Have you… have you ever lost a platoon like that?"

Abigail nodded. "I've had worse, actually. When I contracted, the war was going really badly. I watched as entire battalions were consumed. It was horrifying. I don't know how I survived."

"How do you stay happy?" asked Emma. She sniffed. "I— just remembering it, finding their bodies—."

"The way Kyouko-sama teaches it," said Abigail. "We need to make sure we live our lives protecting humanity. Take from that what you will. For me, it means that I have to keep my gem clean and move forward, not dwell on the past. I made a lot of mistakes as a greenie, but I learned from them. It's going to be better, Emma, I promise."

Emma gulped. "It's so hard though. I'm not— I'm not good enough for this yet."

"But you will be," said Abigail. "Just stay alive."

"I… I guess," said Emma. She looked at Abigail directly. "It's— it's hard to do."

"Yeah," said Abigail, nodding. "There's a lot of ways to cope. For me, I take solace in the Goddess. I just have to do my duty as best I can, and when the time comes, I'll be alright. But I've been in the rear for a while, not on the line like you, so…"

"Take that with a grain of salt, right?" asked Emma, smiling slightly. "Yeah, it's… it's been different, down in the redoubt. They take a lot of steps to make it comfy."

"That they do," said Abigail. She let go of Emma's hand and raised her mug. "Been down to the chuen yet?"

"Yeah, I went and had lunch with a friend," said Emma. "And I've been to the theater, and the library."

"Oooh, the library is cool," said Abigail. "It keeps going and going…"

"Yeah, it made Ayane's arms itch," said Emma, grinning. "She's a flier, but even so."

Abigail shook her head, smiling as well. "You can put a flier underground, but you can't remove her instincts. That was when you told her? Ayane's from Earth, right?"

Emma nodded. "She doesn't really believe," said Emma. "I… well, I didn't try very hard either. She wanted to know about the vision I thought I had, but…"

"You think you had a vision?" asked Abigail.

"Well, I'm not sure," said Emma. "I told you I almost died. What happened was that I found my platoon and… and I think I let my gem go critical."

Abigail sucked in a breath. "And then?"

"I fell asleep. I… I don't know what happened, not really. I woke up just as my gem started to collapse. I ended up using all my cubes to survive. It hurt. A lot."

"Oh Emma," said Abigail. She rounded the desk and gave Emma a hug. "You're very strong to have made it through that. Goddess knows I would have faded then."

"I dunno, you're pretty old," quipped Emma, letting herself lean into the hug. It was a nice hug.

"Oi, hush," said Abigail, rapping her knuckles against Emma's head. She held the hug a moment more, then returned to her seat. "Do you still want to talk about it?"

"It helps a little, actually," said Emma. She smiled at Abigail, genuinely. "It's easier talking to you than Jessica. Dunno why that is."

"Well, I suspect it's because you know that they're there to try and evaluate you," said Abigail, shrugging. "I always had an easier time talking to my CO rather than the psychiatrists. If you want to continue then…?"

"Ah, well, actually, there's not much more," said Emma. "All I remember is a dream. It's faded a lot, and I can't remember much, but…"

"…But?"

"You're… you're going to laugh at me, but the thing I remember the best is… is being tucked in, and feeling really, properly safe for the first time since I contracted.," said Emma. "It was… it was really nice."

Abigail leaned back in her chair and whistled. "Wow," she said. "…Wow. I… I don't know what to say to that."

"You believe me?"

"Well of course," said Abigail. "I mean, it's the first time I've heard of it, and visions only are supposed to happen at the Ribbon, back on Earth. But my friend died seeing something, so I can believe you nearly dying and seeing something."

Emma smiled again. "Thanks for believing me," she said. "It felt real. Maybe it was just my gem making me hallucinate, but I think it was definitely real. And after something like that, I can't ignore it. That's the reason I'm still here."

"Then what's stopping you?" asked Abigail. "I mean, don't get me wrong, this is still your decision, but if that's what's convinced you, then why not go for it?"

Emma frowned at her coffee. "I'm… not sure. There's no reason to be. I've faced down worse."

"Well, maybe it's because you're a footballer," reasoned Abigail. "You're used to facing things in the field that you can outrun or outfight. This isn't something you can deal with that way."

"I guess," said Emma. She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "I never thought of it that way. Different tactics for different missions, right?"

"Exactly," said Abigail with a nod. "It's different for everyone. I find that it's best to try and think through what's bothering you, and figure out the mental block."

Emma swirled her coffee in its mug and considered this. She should probably try harder to face things in her social life, it sounded like. Anna's advice about Ingrid had actually basically told Emma to confront the situation thoughtfully.

"So, for the Cult…," said Emma slowly. "What bothers me is… is…"

Emma stared at the coffee in her mug as she mulled things over. The surface of the coffee had small bubbles strung along the edges, clinging to the interior of the mug even though Emma had drunk some of the contents.

"…I think, my problem is that I'm still afraid," said Emma. She looked up at Abigail. "I don't know what will happen if I join the Cult, and it scares me."

Abigail nodded. "The future is unknowable and frightening," she agreed.

"But…," continued Emma, thinking aloud. "But… the best way to confront this… is to move forward, isn't it? To see what happens and adapt accordingly?"

"On the battlefield, sometimes, yes," said Abigail cautiously.

Emma looked back down at her coffee. She swirled the contents in a circle, watching the bubbles race along the sides. She stopped and placed the mug on the table, leaning forward onto the table and still watching the bubbles. Slowly, the spinning bubbles span into the center of the mug, clumping into a ball.

If Emma never joined the Cult, she'd be stuck here, at this point, forever. Hovering on the edge between committing to something she believed in and effectively pretending it didn't exist. There was no turning back from the Goddess, not after everything she'd seen and done. Nothing left to do, in the end, except move forward.

"I've decided," said Emma, standing up. "I'm going to join the Cult."

Abigail seemed slightly taken aback, but rallied quickly. "Are you sure?" she asked. "This is a big step."

"I'm sure," said Emma. A sense of finality and elation began to spread through her chest, starting in the middle and bubbling outwards. Unbidden, a grin sprang to her lips. She believed in the Goddess, and She deserved Emma's gratitude and worship. It felt good to be committing to that. Properly, and without hesitation.

"Alright then," said Abigail. She breathed out and stood up, gathering the shawl around her. A moment later, she smiled at Emma and stepped around the desk. "Come on, we need to do this in the worship hall."

The lights turned down as Abigail entered the hall, Emma following close behind. The statue of the Goddess shone brightly as the lights shifted to focus upon it. Abigail stood before the statue, gazing up at the obscured face proudly and confidently.

"Blessed Lady," she began. "We come before you today to welcome a sister into the Cult founded in your name." She turned, still standing before the altar, and gestured towards Emma. "Her name is Emma Sinclair, and is from Earth. Emma, could you please transform?"

Emma licked her lips, jitters coming on despite her decisiveness earlier, and stepped forward into the ring of light around the altar. Light sparked from the ring on her finger, billowing out in a cloud. As Emma passed through, the weight of her costume's armor settled itself onto her body. She brushed her hair back, letting the earring her soul gem changed into glint in the light shining upon the statue.

Abigail knelt before the altar briefly, picking up an apple from the basket standing in front of it. She held it up to the statue.

"My Lady, while we know little of your nature and your being, we know one thing in certainty," said Abigail. The apple shone in the light, a radiant and bright red that almost glowed. "We know that you save us. Each and every magical girl, when her time comes, may count upon your presence to bring her out of despair and into the light, so that she may pass on and leave her suffering behind her."

Abigail bit into the apple with a crunch. She chewed and swallowed. "This apple, I say, shall represent my wish, and the wishes of all magical girls. I have taken my bite from this apple already, and stand before you as a torch bearer, trusting in you and performing my duty to save and protect humanity from those that seek its end."

Abigail turned to Emma, and held out the apple. "Emma Sinclair," she said. "You too, have made a wish. Will you partake of this fruit? Will you pledge yourself to the service of humanity, in the darkest of nights and in the most blinding of days? Will you trust in the Goddess on high, to save you in the end?"

Emma blinked. She realized she was crying. Memories sprang up. Memories of Anna, who looked so sad, but somehow proud, when Emma showed her the gem that was Emma's soul. Memories of her platoon, dead and strewn about their position, defiant to the last. Memories of Tracy Geyeller, and her fear as she lay in the dirt, believing she was going to die.

Much had passed, and still more lay ahead. Emma didn't know what would happen, nor did she know how she would react. There were few things that were certain. But, whatever happened, Emma knew that she would fulfill her duty. That she would make the best of the situation given to her, so as not to let anyone down. And that when, inevitably, Emma one day died, she would be able to rest in safety and peace, forever.

"I will."

Emma took the apple. Without hesitation, she bit into it. The flesh was crisp and sweet. Juice ran down it and onto her gloves.

Abigail nodded at her, and turned back to the statue. "My Lady, I now ask for your blessing. Since we still live, I ask that your wisdom light Emma's path, so that she may not despair, but serve and protect humanity for all the days that are allotted to her. Since all must eventually pass, I ask that your mercy and grace catch Emma as she falls, so that she may pass with a glad heart, sure of purpose and free of fear."

Abigail paused, as if listening to the Goddess whisper in her ear. Then she turned, smiling, to Emma.

"Welcome, Emma Sinclair, to the Cult of Hope. May kindness and mercy follow you all the days of your life, and may you dwell in the light of the Goddess forever."


	8. Cups That Runneth Over

The last thing Abigail did before Emma left the chapel was press a gold brooch into Emma's hands after she'd untransformed. The Cult's symbol was etched into the brooch's metamaterial face, the material rippling in the light as Emma tilted it. It changed into a deep, subdued, red after Emma pinned it onto the front pocket of her hoodie.

"There's also classes, discussion meetings, and other Cult activities you can participate in," said Abigail, forwarding the relevant information.

"Classes?" asked Emma, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Well you've got to find out about what you've just joined somehow," said Abigail, chuckling. "Come on, it's not that bad."

"I… guess," hedged Emma. "At least it's not economics or something…"

"Just make sure you know the basics," said Abigail. "After that, you can just do the fun stuff if you want. Take a look at 'ministry activities'."

"Oh, you've got football matches," said Emma, grinning as she scrolled through the list. "That's great, I haven't had a chance to play in a long time."

"Bring your friends," suggested Abigail. "There's not enough girls available, usually, to get a really good game going, and we like to try and spread the word to whoever we can reach."

"Yeah, alright," said Emma enthusiastically. "I don't know what my schedule's going to be like though, but I'll try to get them to come when I can."

"Great!" said Abigail. "Do you have anything else you'd like to talk about?"

"No, not really," said Emma. "Thanks. For everything."

Abigail nodded. "Of course," she said. "Any time you need to speak to someone who's not a shrink, feel free to come by, alright?"

"Yeah," said Emma. "I'll see you around then."

The ride back to Emma's residence block seemed extraordinarily short. Emma's mind was still buzzing with what had just happened, and it kept her preoccupied. Varsha and Rebecca were in the latter's room, going over a map, when Emma returned.

"Oh hey Emma," said Rebecca. She gestured at her room. "Come in. You'll have to sit on the bed, but it's clean, I promise."

Varsha punched her in the arm, blushing. "A-anyway, what's up?" she asked, ignoring Rebecca's collapse into giggles.

"Well, I've got some important news that I wanted to share with you guys," said Emma. She stuck her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. "Have you got a minute?"

"Sure," said Rebecca. The floating map was pushed to the side, and the couple scooted to the side to give Emma space to sit. "So, what's happening?"

Emma took a deep breath, held it, and breathed back out. Here went nothing. "I joined the Cult of Hope. I thought you ought to know."

Varsha and Rebecca blinked at her.

"Do you… do you have any questions?" Emma asked.

"What did joining the Cult entail?" asked Varsha. "Was there a process?"

Emma nodded. "Let me just send you the memory," she said. "It's probably easier than trying to tell you verbally."

"Alright."

Emma fiddled with her brooch nervously while she waited for them to finish watching. She recalled suddenly that she had started crying part of the way through, and hastily squashed down a squirt of embarrassment. She still wanted to tell them about her experience, though. It was important to her, at least, and it seemed like the sort of thing that others in your social circle needed to know when it happened. And besides, despite Ayane and Renee not having a clue, Emma wasn't ashamed of her faith. Varsha and Rebecca finished the memory a moment later.

"So is that it then?" asked Varsha.

"Uh, yeah," said Emma. She shifted slightly in her seat. "There's not much to it, honestly."

"Huh," said Rebecca, blinking at the last frame of the memory Emma had forwarded to them. "I was expecting something more… involved, I guess."

"Honestly, I thought the Cult would be kind of creepy," admitted Varsha. "But that's a lot better than I thought it would be."

"What do you mean?" asked Emma.

"Well, there's this group of Christians that are in my hometown," said Varsha. "It's uh… well…"

"Oh come on, they're not that bad," said Rebecca. "There are some out where I live. They're really nice!"

"Different planets, different Christians," said Varsha, shrugging. "The ones I have go around in this pack. Matching clothes, matching facial expressions…"

All three of them shivered simultaneously.

"Well I'm sure there are some members of the Cult who are like that," said Emma, scratching her head. "But Abigail's not like that. I'm not like that."

"Of course," said Varsha. "It's better than I expected. As long as you don't start doing the creepy dance, congratulations and stuff, I guess. Is that something you congratulate people on?"

" 'Course you do," said Rebecca, rolling her eyes at Varsha. "Congratulations Emma. It's a big step, and I'm happy for you!"

"Thanks," said Emma, smiling. "It means a lot. I told Renee and Ayane earlier, but it… didn't go so well."

"Ah, yeah, we heard," said Varsha sympathetically. "Ayane and Renee were talking about it when they got back. I can't say I don't share their views, honestly, but—."

"What Varsha means is we get where you're coming from and think you're not crazy," said Rebecca flatly, punching her girlfriend in the arm. "Jeez, Varsha, be better at social interaction."

"Hey, ow!"

Emma smiled at them. "It's fine," she said. "It's just nice to know that somebody gets where I'm coming from."

"Well we've known people who are religious," said Rebecca. "The colonies have a lot of them, you know. I'm good friends with a few, actually."

"I'm not…" said Varsha, rubbing her arm.

Rebecca thumped Varsha in the shoulder again.

"Ow!"

"So what were you two doing before I showed up?" asked Emma, hiding her smile at Varsha's pained expression. Totally whipped, that girl.

"I've got a mission down by South Metro," said Rebecca, sobering quickly. With a gesture, she flicked the map she and Varsha had been examining back into view. "I'm supporting MagOps Team 9 to gather intel on enemy logistical dispositions. You know the squid still haven't restarted the attack? It's just skirmishes right now."

"It's been, what, a day already?" asked Emma, raising an eyebrow. "They usually react faster than this. What's happened?"

"We've no idea," said Varsha. She traced out the space battle overtop of the ground battle. "The squid fleet's pulled out of position though, here and here. They're still able to cover orbital bombardment, but they've grouped more defensively to cover the rear."

"Logistical difficulties then," said Emma, frowning. She pulled the map so that it zoomed out and looked at the supply line, stretching from the plains in the center of the continent and spreading out to maintain contact with all squid forces. "Show me the plots across the last four days."

Emma's TacComp overlaid the plots in sequence. The supply chain started out moving in relatively straight lines, with consideration to any terrain changes. On day three, however, offshoots began to appear.

"That's odd," said Emma, pointing out an offshoot in the region of the aerodome, several kilometers west. "Look, there's no reason to send a line out to that area. It sort of stops too. Can we get images of that area?"

"Can you wait until later?" asked Rebecca. "Mission. I have one. Remember?"

"Oh, right, sorry," said Emma. She pushed the map to the side, saving it into her memory for later. Rebecca's map for her mission reappeared.

"Right, so I'm moving with Team 9, they're called the Teenage Scare, by the way—."

"What a terrible name."

"—I know right? Anyway, we're going pretty deep into the enemy's rear. We were looking at escape routes, in case things went ugly."

"Ah," said Emma. She winced. Being at the back of the enemy line was very counterproductive to that sort of thing. And on top of that: "It… seems kinda early for you," said Emma. "I mean, you're good, but MagOps teams are just so much better than us."

"Yeah, I dunno, I guess I'm flattered?" said Rebecca. She twisted the sheets under her hands. "I'm nervous too, of course, but either there's literally no one else or I'm a lot better than I thought I was."

"No way you're the last mind controller in Helsinberg," said Emma, shaking her head. "You guys get the easy jobs and don't— ack!"

Emma ducked, laughing, as Rebecca took a swing at her. "Shut up, we do not!" protested Rebecca, grinning. "Just 'cause we're more important than you AOE fighters doesn't mean you get to be jealous, Emma."

"Who says I'm jealous?" asked Emma primly. "I don't need validation."

Rebecca stuck her tongue at Emma. They all laughed. It was a much needed drop in tension.

"You'll be fine," said Emma confidently, getting up to go. "Besides, you've got Varsha to get back to, right?"

Rebecca blinked at Emma, before flushing bashfully. "Well… yes."

Varsha covered Rebecca's hand with her own, bumping their heads together. "I'll be waiting for you," she said. "Come back safe, 'kay?"

"Mmm," said Rebecca, leaning against Varsha, hiding her face in Varsha's hair.

"Hey, what are you embarrassed about?" asked Emma, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be the open one in this relationship?"

"D-don't make it into a thing like that," said Rebecca, still hiding. "You make me think too much about it and I get embarrassed."

Emma looked at Varsha, who shrugged minutely.

"I'll just be going then," said Emma. "See you later."

Varsha and Rebecca waved. The door clunked shut behind Emma. She walked to her door, pausing in front of Tracy's vacant room briefly on the way.

Emma lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. It really had only been a few days since she'd landed on Samsara. Two days of fighting, another day of hiking, and a day of recuperation. It felt like months had passed. Maybe it was the time dilation that came with combat. Psychological fatigue, too, from the stress. It was a good time for that nap she'd been planning on. One last thing to do before that though.

The long distance vid call took a moment to authenticate. Emma hurried double checked the time on Earth. Ah, good. Anna was out of class.

"Emma!" said Anna excitedly. "Oh it's so good to see you! How is everything?"

"It's fine," said Emma, grinning. It could be odd, being a twin. Anna's facial structure was so close to Emma's that people would have gotten them mixed up without nomenclators. But the little differences stood out. Anna's nose crooked a little differently, and her eyes were a little more sharply formed than Emma's. It was like looking in a mirror except not. "How are things at home?"

"Oh, it's been alright," said Anna, yawning. "Guh. That assignment I was working on was due today. Stayed up all night working on it, only got like half an hour of sleep."

"Jeez, you okay then?"

"Nah, it's nothing we haven't done before," said Anna, waving it off. "Remember?"

"Oh yeah, that was a great experience," said Emma, rolling her eyes. "Totally worth the grade we got too."

"Well, Professor Spellmeyer was…"

"An ass?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, precisely, but something of that nature, yes," said Anna, looking to the side.

"But well, if you're okay, I guess try to get some extra sleep tonight," said Emma. "Or just don't show up to class, that's always a plan."

"Emma, only you skive off class to go napping," said Anna, giggling. "There was always rampant speculation when you and anyone else would go missing at the same time."

"Oh Goddess, don't even remind me," groaned Emma, covering her eyes. "You know it's happened again here? I fall asleep with a girl this one time in the hospital…"

Anna's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "What? That's kind of fast, isn't it?"

"Dammit, Anna, not you too!"

"But really, what did you expect?" asked Anna. "Come on, Emma, you _slept_ with her."

"Not like that!"

"Well of course not, you were in a hospital, but even so—."

"No, I meant I literally accidentally fell asleep," said Emma exasperatedly. "She needed a hug, and medical had drugged me pretty heavily. That's all."

"…that would require some very intense drugs," said Anna with mild dubiousness. "But I'm not familiar with military medicine, so if you're sure…"

"Yes, I'm sure," said Emma. "Look, you can even meet the girl if you really bloody want to. She'll tell you the same thing."

"Sure, that would be nice," said Anna. "Do I know her already?"

"I've told you about Ayane, haven't I?" asked Emma. "We met during orientation."

"I think so," said Anna. "Um… Japanese, flying mage?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Emma. She sent an image of Ayane from one of the sims, transformed and getting ready to jump into the air. Her cloak and hair rippled around her as the magic built up, crackles of amber flickering in the air. "That's her."

Anna looked at the image for a moment, her eyes flicking to the left. "I see… she's cute."

Emma gave Anna a very flat look.

"Sorry, sorry," said Anna, smiling and filing the image away. "Anyway, that sort of thing aside, what else is new?"

"Well…" Emma hedged, considering what had happened and how much she should talk about. "…It's been… rough, I guess, but nothing I couldn't handle."

Anna narrowed her eyes. "You're hiding something."

Dammit. "Well yeah, but I don't want to worry you."

"You hiding things from me worries me," said Anna. "Just tell me how things are going, Emma, please."

Emma grimaced and stood up to pace in the narrow space, thinking over what she might say. It would be a horrendously bad plan to tell Anna directly that she'd almost died. In fact, telling her about the situation in any detail was inviting a massively worried and upset reaction that Emma neither wanted to cause nor deal with. On top of that, since the battle was still on going, there were issues with what could be released, for PR reasons.

"It's been… been… problematic," Emma eventually managed. "We're not supposed to talk too much, since the situation's still evolving, so I can't tell you everything."

Anna's brow wrinkled unhappily. "Have you been staying safe, at least?"

"I've been trying," said Emma placatingly. "It hasn't been easy, but I've been doing my best."

Anna looked at Emma with a small frown, and sighed. Her head tilted slightly to one side, letting some of her bangs fall across her eyes. She looked down at the ground, biting her lip, and rocked back and forth twice.

"I… I'm sorry, Anna," said Emma guiltily. "I know you worry about me, but I have to do what's… what's required, on the field."

"I know, I know, but it's really difficult," said Anna. She didn't look up at Emma. "I just wish that you didn't have to fight in a war, if you contracted."

Emma chuckled grimly. "Yeah, well, I have an Incubator handy, so if you want to give it a shot…."

Anna shook her head. "No. I… I would, but I'd wish for something that would involve you, and I don't want to mess up your life any more than it already is."

"…Well look, you shouldn't contract period," said Emma, blinking rapidly. "I don't want you in the line of fire."

"Well that's easy for you to say!" said Anna hotly. "You're not sitting around hoping your sister doesn't get killed, light years away from you!"

"That's totally irrelevant—!"

"It isn't!" said Anna, blinking away tears. "It's not irrelevant! You know what's happening and can deal with it! Me, I'm sitting here without a clue!"

Emma opened her mouth to retort, then snapped it shut and looked away. Goddess damn it, this was not how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to be a happy call. Emma was supposed to catch up on Anna's life, tell her about the Cult, and they'd all move on. Yelling at each other was not supposed to be in the equation.

"Look, I'm sorry for being… insensitive, and stuff," sighed Emma. "I just wanted to see you, is all. It's been a while."

Anna was quiet, wiping her eyes, before replying. "…Yes, it has."

"And um… and I wanted to tell you about something else."

Anna looked up at Emma, swallowing. "What is it?"

"I… I joined a religion," said Emma, licking her lips. "I went to the chapel of the Cult of Hope a few hours ago, and I thought you would want to know."

Anna blinked at her. "…What? You… you joined a cult? Wha— why?"

"Not 'a' cult, 'the' Cult," emphasized Emma. "The Cult of Hope. It's a magical girl religion. I… I had an… experience, in the field, a couple of days ago."

"What kind of an experience?" asked Anna.

"I'm… not sure I should say," said Emma. Anna would absolutely react badly to any details.

"Why not?" asked Anna, temper flaring again. "Why do you have to hide _this_ from me as well?"

"It's just because of policy," said Emma quickly. "I would tell you if I could, but it's an evolving situation and I'm not supposed to talk about it. I'm sorry."

"…and this… experience, convinced you to join a religion?" asked Anna, raising an eyebrow. "You're the least philosophical person I know, Emma. What could have possibly convinced you?"

"I— that's not fair," said Emma, frowning. "I'm not philosophical, but you don't need a philosophical argument to convince someone of the existence of the Goddess. You just need empirical evidence."

"So you saw a supernatural being."

"Yes."

"…How?"

Emma frowned. "I've just told you I can't tell you."

"That's completely ridiculous!" said Anna. "That's not even part of the military!"

"It's related to—!"

"It is not related to combat and you know it!" Anna fired back. "Damn it, Emma! When did you start cutting me out of your life?!"

Emma reeled. "I am not cutting you out of my life!" she yelled. "Do you want to hear every detail about what I do now?! How much it scares me, how much I've had to fight to survive?!"

"Just tell me something more than 'it's classified'!" Anna shouted. "I need to know—!"

"I almost died, alright?" Emma asked angrily. She ignored Anna's shocked gasp. "I found my platoon, and they were dead, and I despaired and nearly had my gem go out. That's what's happened to me, okay? And I lived, and I saw the Goddess when I was dying, and that's why I joined the Cult."

Anna's hands were clasped to her mouth, tears tumbling down from her eyes and across her hands. Emma blinked, rapidly increasing horror cascading as she realized what she'd just said.

"Oh Goddess, Anna, I'm sorry I didn't mean—."

"I have to go," said Anna shakily, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Emma, but I have to— I can't—."

"Anna, no, please, I'm sorry, wait—!"

"I'll— I'll talk to you later," said Anna.

The line closed.

"Anna!" Emma shouted desperately, immediately rekeying the call. It came back refused. "Damn it!"

She turned to her right, stepped once, and aimed a kick into the wall. It hit with a loud thud and a crack, making Emma sit down heavily, cursing as she cradled her foot. She'd forgotten to reinforce her foot with magic, and it sounded like she'd cracked the bone.

This was not supposed to happen. Emma had thought that Anna would be alright. That she would understand what was happening, the things that Emma was doing. That she was seeing things that nobody her age ought to see, and that it was dangerous and risky and yes, Emma could very well die. Anna had always been good at this. Being empathetic and understanding other people. Why not now? Why, when Emma needed support from Anna the most, did she suddenly no longer get it?

Emma's door slid open.

"Emma?" asked Ayane, stepping into the room. "Are you alright? I heard something hit my wall…"

"Y-yeah," said Emma, sniffing. "I-I'm fine. I j-just needed to b-blow off some steam. Forgot to reinforce my f-foot. Stupid."

Ayane closed the door behind her, then slowly stepped closer to Emma and sat down. The room was small enough that the two of them on the floor was slightly cramped.

"Did… you get some bad news?" asked Ayane.

Emma shook her head. "I c-called Anna. We… talked."

Ayane blinked at this. "That's… good, isn't it?"

"It's supposed to be," said Emma. "She… she's really worried about me."

"And?"

"And she doesn't get it," Emma said with a low laugh, letting herself fall backwards onto the floor. She was crying. "She has no idea what's happening, and I can't tell her or she'll just get worse. What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, Emma," sighed Ayane. She pulled Emma back up and into a hug.

"What am I supposed to do, Ayane?" Emma repeated, voice hollow.

Ayane sighed again.

"I don't know."

* * *

The waiting room of the medical bay Tracy was being revived in was low-vaulted and circular. Lamps had been recessed down the length of the pillars that supported the ceiling, their light a slowly shifting array of blues and purples and greens rendered pale against the white walls. Chairs with black cushions were arranged in neat rows within the center, and a drinks dispenser stood in the back. It had a holographic label beneath, informing users that alcoholic beverages were not installed on this device, due to limits imposed by the Surgeon General's Office and the Mental Health Division.

Emma sat alone, facing the entrance, elbows braced against her knees and a cup of water in her hands. She took a sip. It was still fairly cold, due to the insulating qualities of the cup. She would have preferred alcohol, but circumstances conspired against her.

She pulled up her deployment orders to look over them again. Agapita had failed to mention that Hinata Shizuki was garrison commander of Helsinberg's magical girl compliment and the military units stationed there. Emma was to report in to her, but not for a combat mission as had been previously planned. Her conversation with Anna was affecting her mood, and the MHD was just worried enough to want her to spend some time hunting demons before going back into combat. It was a reasonable order, honestly, but she would have preferred to deal with things by blowing something up. By now, everything had knotted into a ball of frustration, and what more cathartic way to deal with that than to smash and destroy? Then again, that was probably the issue.

This wasn't the time for such thoughts though. Despite their reservations about her immediate combat readiness, the MHD had determined that it was perfectly reasonable for her to be at Tracy's reawakening. She'd been the last person Tracy had seen, after all. A review of Emma's memory on the event made it seem unlikely that Tracy would remember that Emma had pulled the trigger on her.

The door to Emma's left opened. A magical girl wearing a lab coat over her costume stood outlined in the bright lighting of the medical bay.

"Emma, we're ready to begin," said the girl. Emma's nomenclator labeled her as Nikol Kardos. "If you'd follow me."

Emma stood and followed Nikol into the decontamination chamber. The polyglass walls gave her a good view of the medical bay's layout, or at least those areas that had not been rendered opaque for privacy reasons. It was a sharp contrast to the waiting room, the hallways clean and brightly lit.

"So, what's this going to be like?" asked Emma as the sanitation process began.

"We'll take care of most of it, but you'll be her first touchstone," said Nikol. Her costume, a strangely feathery affair, fluttered as the drones made their way up her body. "That means you'll be her first psychological anchor after awaking. We'll need you to be ready for when she wakes up."

"Do you know how she's going to wake?" asked Emma, swallowing quietly. That wasn't a big responsibility at all.

"Probably violently, in all honesty," said Nikol. "Her last memory will have been being in combat, so her combat instincts will probably fire instantly. Her TacComp will help some, but we've seen girls over-ride the TacComps in these scenarios."

Emma nodded, biting her lip. This would be tricky.

"There's some magic tricks I know that will help," added Nikol, leading the way towards Tracy's room. "And of course, the technicians will be present to do what mundane things they can."

Emma transformed as she walked. "You've done this a lot then."

"Well, I'd only been contracted for a month or so when the first reawakenings started being performed," said Nikol. She glanced over at Emma, grinning in amusement. "You hadn't even been born, you know."

Emma rolled her eyes. She'd started getting used to girls who looked her age being much, much older. "Yeah, yeah."

"Anyway, we're here," said Nikol. She gestured for Emma to enter the polyglass cube.

Tracy's body lay on the examination table. A single white sheet was laid on top of it. Various lines and cables ran down into the base of the table, with a large bundle running out to a console where a technician was standing. He nodded at Emma as she entered. The only other person there was a doctor, there to ensure that everything went smoothly.

Emma didn't bother to nomenclate anyone else. She moved to stand next to the table. At first, the body didn't seem to be functional. It took a moment for Emma to realize that it was just breathing very slowly. Tracy's body was probably swimming in drugs.

The doctor lifted the sheet to double check the leads. "Everything looks good here," he said, and turned to the technician. "Everything green on your end?"

"Yes," said the technician. "Ready to begin activation sequence."

"Mrs. Kardos?"

"I'm ready," said Nikol, from where she was standing in the corner. She'd shed her lab coat. A dim layer of aqua-colored magic hovered over her hands.

"And how about yourself, Miss Sinclair?" asked the doctor. "I'm sure Mrs. Kardos has briefed you on the situation?"

Emma nodded, licking her lips. "She has."

"Very good," said the doctor, nodding. "We have decided to prep Ms. Geyeller while her body is till in a comatose state, to smooth the transition. Your role will be to provide support, should she react badly after passing through the sleep-like phase. Do you have any other questions before we begin?"

"No."

"In that case, Renard, if you could please begin the activation sequence? Thank you."

It was a strange phrase, Emma thought as she waited. It was almost as if they were treating the body like a drone to be flipped on. As if it were a mechanical being that need only have a component added in order to be fully active. Then again, according to Senbey, there was some philosophical basis for that.

Tracy woke up slowly. Her body twitched once as the Renard brought her out of the induced coma and into a REM-like phase. Tears formed and trickled down her face.

"She's only dreaming," said the doctor calmly as Emma looked at him in alarm. "It's a good sign. It means that her gem has integrated well."

"Well wake her up!" said Emma. Tracy whimpered in her sleep, pushing at the table with her hands as if trying to escape. The sheet covering her body constricted, clinging to the table and to Tracy's body to keep her from struggling too much. This only seemed to worsen her nightmare.

"Finishing REM-phase sequence now," reported Renard. "Bringing out of sleep in three, two, and—."

Tracy snapped awake with a gasp. Her TacComp paralyzed her muscles before she could jerk upright. It took a second for her to process what was happening, her eyes flicking across the room before focusing on Emma.

Emma grinned at Tracy. "Hey there. How you feeling?"

Tracy's expression flicked from shock to surprise to sheer joy in the span of a second. Then she practically leaped from the table, grabbing onto Emma with a happy shriek.

"I'm alive!" Tracy shouted. "I'maliveI'maliveI'malive!"

Emma laughed, hugging Tracy back. "Told you so," she said. "Welcome back, Tracy."

They stayed there for a moment, laughing together and celebrating Tracy's return from the dead. A feeling of lightness swept over Emma. Latent guilt she hadn't realized was pressing down on her now faded, leaving her with only sparkling happiness.

"How are you though?" asked Emma once their laughter had died down. Elation still made her grin stupidly as she stepped back a bit, holding Tracy by the shoulders. "Can you sit up?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Tracy. She braced her arms against the table. "I feel kinda weird though."

"That's normal, I think," said Emma. "Did you get anything in training about body loss?"

"Kind of?" said Tracy. "They just told us that medical could, uh, restore us from gem. It was really vague."

"Well… that's about everything I remember," said Emma sheepishly. They shared another moment of laughter. "Other than that though?"

"Other than feeling weird, yeah, I feel good," said Tracy, grinning brightly. "Did anything happen afterwards? The last thing I remember is you telling me I'd be okay."

Emma sighed in relief. She didn't remember getting shot then. "No, nothing for you to worry about. Everything went well, and we kicked ass."

"Cool," said Tracy. She held up her hand, examining the line coming out of her wrist's access point. "Jeez, I'm all wired up like some sort of drone."

The doctor reappeared. "We can take care of that now," he said. "My name is Dr. Masozi Laevesque. All your diagnostics check out, Ms. Geyeller, so if you don't mind, we'll start unhooking you now."

"Oh, uh, sure," said Tracy.

"I'll wait outside," said Emma as Dr. Laevesque and Renard began to unhook the cables on Tracy's arms and back. "They've, uh, got some cables under the sheet, so I'll see you in a bit."

"Ah, right," said Tracy, flushing slightly but nodding. "See you outside."


End file.
